NewfoundHope
by WizardsGirl
Summary: He should have known something bad would happen when the Dursley's took him to America on Vacation with them. Now, trapped in what he guessed was his Animagus form in Miami, what's Harry to do? Besides pray the vets don't neuter him, of course... R&R!
1. Prologue: Miami Heat

**Newfound-Hope**

_~WizardsGirl~_

**A/N:** I own nothing Harry Potter. I own all plot variations, OOCness, OCs, and so on and so forth…You'd think people would realize that these things weren't needed, unless the REAL authors pop in one day and write their own FanFiction…

Which, let's face it, would be kind of cool.

**R&R!**

**Prologue**

Harry Potter gasped for breath as he ran down unfamiliar streets, his lungs screaming, his broken nose aching, his fractured arm clutched close to his bruised chest as he fled his cousin. The soon-to-be-fifteen-year-old was furious with himself for letting his guard down for even a _minute_ around the larger boy. Just because the Dursley's had decided to take him with them on their vacation to America didn't mean that he could slack off and forget that they hated his guts. Something his cousin Dudley had decided to remind him by beating the shit out of him while his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had gone out to dinner.

Now Harry was running down the alleys and streets of Miami, Florida, sweat pouring down his skin from the heat he was unaccustomed to, as he dodged past people and cars while his cousin cursed at his back. Now, Harry was usually a very fast runner, but all the people were slowing him down, and, unlike Dudley, he wasn't enormously fat, as so no one conveniently leaped out of his way as he ran. So, he was forced to slow down in order to dodge around bystanders, while his whale of a cousin ran after him like a freight train, making people leap out of his way quickly, and therefore keeping much closer to the smaller, black-haired teen then he'd usually be able to on his own.

Harry gasped for breath, lungs burning fiercely, and found a stretch of empty street, which he took advantage of by stretching his legs out and pounding his way as fast as he could, ducking down low and curling into himself, so that he rocketed forward and put much more space between his snarling, wheezing cousin, who was only now beginning to slow. The last two years of boxing training had made Dudley's stamina rise, but he could never stay on Harry as long as Harry didn't get caught, so the emerald-eyed teen threw himself into the next crowd, zigzagging through them, ignoring the blood that was tacky and drying on his mouth and chin from his broken nose.

After he'd run another block, he ran down an unlit alley, and slid down behind a dumpster, crouching immediately behind a dumpster and closing his eyes, trying to stifle his gasping, and steady his magic, as it rolled, writhed, and raged beneath his skin. He needed to _calm down, dammit!_

There was a flash a white hot pain throughout his body at his silent demand of his magic, and, for one, confused, agonized moment, he disbelievingly wondered if he'd somehow managed to _Crucio_ himself, before blackness welled up and covered his vision.

**~(Line Break)~**

He woke slowly, and to the sun beating down on him heavily, when he remembered _quite_ clearly that it had been evening when he'd passed out. Groaning as the bright light hurt his eyes, he closed them again with a grimace. His head hurt…Actually, his whole body hurt something awful, with his broken arm and bruised ribs hurting the most. Strangely, his broken nose didn't hurt as much as he thought it would…

Shifting slightly, Harry very, _very_ carefully opened his eyes, squinting painfully against the light, and whined lowly when his next shift jostled his broken arm. At the sound, he stilled, confused.

_"What the hell?"_ He said, or, well, tried to say, as all that came out of his mouth was a confused rumbling whine. Lifting his head, he tried to look at his good hand…and found himself staring blankly at the large black paw that was in the place of his usual limb. _Funny_, he thought, eying it warily. _It __feels__ like my hand. And when I want my hand to move, it moves like my hand should. But it's __not__ my bloody __hand__._ As he thought this, his mind a little dazed (either from pain or shock, he didn't know) he could feel the sudden, smug, rolling of his magic. It felt very pleased with itself beneath his, er, fur, and Harry growled low in his chest, the sound feeling odd and making his body tremble. Carefully, he rolled from his side, onto his stomach, white flashing through his eyes as pain skyrocketed through his ribs and broken arm-_well, leg now, isn't it?_ he thought self-depreciatingly, glaring at the limbs he was forced to hold out awkwardly to the side-and then he glanced at the rest of his new body.

He was a very large black dog of some sort, though his fur was matted with blood from his nose and a cut on his side he must have gotten when he fell, or something, because he didn't remember it from before. He was also incredibly thin for a large dog, his stomach curving up and his ribs countable, and he grimaced, before he quickly lifted a back leg and check his 'boys'. He was _immensely_ relieved to find them still very much intact, and that Fate and his magic hadn't decided to _totally_ fuck him over and do something _truly_ horribly, like neuter him, or maybe even turn him into a girl… Not that he had anything against girls, mind you. He just did _not_ want to be one. Setting his leg back down, Harry looked around the alley, and carefully used his good foreleg to force his large, heavy body up and into a sitting position, ignoring the pain the shimmered through him and made him wheeze. Forcing himself to his large paws, he staggered, trying to stay balanced while his body rebelled and he kept his bad leg off the ground.

"Oh!" A voice exclaimed; Harry's head jerked up and over, towards the mouth of the alley, to see a handful of concerned looking teenage girls who were _way_ too young, in his opinion, to be running around in mini-shorts and bikini-tops. One of them, a brunet with large blue-gray eyes and a light tan, was looking at him with horror.

"Stay away from it, Kathy," one of the girls friends hissed when the brunet moved into the alley towards Harry cautiously. "Its hurt and could bite you!" The brunet, Kathy, continued forward, ignoring her friends hissings and pleadings, and Harry carefully sat down, panting tiredly as his head spun in pain and the heat, watching the girl get closer to him. When she was a few feet from him, she crouched, and cooed softly at him, offering one hand, the nails neat, clean, and unpainted. Harry stared at her, and then tiredly leaned forward and gave her hand a bemused sniff.

His nose was instantly flooded with the smell of honey, lilacs, salty sweat, and something that just smelled like _female_ to him, as well as something that made him feel happy. His tail, something he didn't much think about before, wagged tentatively, smacking against the ground as he licked the proffered appendage, tasting the bitter flavor of the lilac-scented lotion, and the salt that skin naturally tasted of. Kathy continued to croon and murmur to him, slowly, carefully, lifting her other hand to his head and stroking his head gently, making him whine lowly as he passed over bruises.

"I called the Animal Rescue number, Kathy," one of the four girls at the mouth of the alley called down, and Kathy carefully sat, and began trying to coax Harry into her lap. Carefully, he lay down, so that his large head settled on her thigh, and whined lowly as she gently pet him, now avoiding the worst of the bruises on his head.

"Easy boy," Kathy murmured soothingly, kindly. "Help's on the way, okay?" She looked over towards her friends, face worried. "Hey, Jen, can you bring my water over here? He's gotta be thirsty." One of the girls, a blond with brown eyes and rather large breasts, hesitantly walked into the alley, water bottle in hand, and, at Kathy's urgings, poured some into the brunets hands so Harry could lap it up. _Funny_, he thought as he eagerly did so, slurping the water up. _I didn't even feel thirsty until I saw the water…_

By the time a large car pulled up fifteen minutes later, all of the girls were around Harry, talking to him gently and feeding him a hotdog one had run off to a nearby vendor to buy, which Harry eagerly but carefully ate, so that his large teeth didn't accidently nip the girl (Angie, if he remembered) who held it out to him. A man in a brown uniform got out of the car and paused at the mouth of the alley, looking bemused. Instantly, four of the five girls moved towards him, while Kathy remained, since Harry's head was on her lap. The teenage boy-turned-dog could have pouted. They'd taken the petting with them, dammit, and once they avoided all his sore spots, that had felt _nice_. Kathy, at least, continued to pet him soothingly, scratching behind his left ear, as his right one had a bruise in front of it that hurt when you went anywhere near it.

"Is that the dog?" The man asked the girls, and moved carefully forward. Harry noticed, suddenly, that he was wearing a belt, and on his belt was a gun, pepper spray, and a radio. He was a police officer? He had short brown hair, and brown eyes, and Harry wagged his tail hesitantly when the man knelt down and offered his hand to smell. "Someone's worked you over pretty bad, haven't they, big boy?" He said quietly, as Harry snuffled at his hand, fascinated by the many different smells. Dozens of different animals, male, female, dogs, cats, he smelled what he _thought_ was horse, and what he _knew_ was snake, too. What did this guy _do_ today, go to the petting zoo and pound at the same time?

"He's got a nasty cut on his side," Kathy informed the Animal officer, gently petting Harry's head while the man carefully began to pet him as well. "And his left front leg is messed up, and he's all beat up," she said, looking torn between upset and angry. Harry whined and licked her cheek, making his tongue loll out as he grinned when she wrinkled her nose and wiped what looked like an extremely excessive amount of drool from her cheek. The officer grinned and chuckled, even as his hands gently shifted Harry around so that he could examine the more obvious wound on his side. Harry let him, feeling unusually relaxed and willing to let this perfect stranger touch him. It helped that under the animal scents, the man smelled like books, leather, and vanilla ice cream, all things Harry usually associated with Remus, and therefore safety. All he was missing was the werewolfs strangely-bitter dark-chocolate scent (the one that he thought of as representing the Moony side of Remus) and he'd be all set.

"What a Newfoundland is doing in _Miami_, I don't know," the man told Kathy honestly, shaking his head. "Hot climates aren't good for them, since their furs so thick. They like chilly weather." Harry whined when the man pressed against a bruise. Immediately, the man was gentler, murmuring soothingly, and Harry all but melted when he scratched a spot near the base of his tail.

_"Keep that up and I'll name my first born after you,"_ Harry groaned, the sound coming out as a strange, moaning whine, his tail wagging happily. The man chuckled, and then coaxed him gently to his feet, making Harry whine for a whole different reason as his body protested painfully.

"Let's get him in the truck, and then the vet," the man murmured, and Harry looked up at him, squinting his eyes against the light, to read the metal badge on his chest. _Officer J. Aarons, huh?_ he thought, and limped painfully and slowly after Officer Aarons, who praised him for being such a good boy, and continued to talk to him as he led the boy-turned-dog to the back of the large car, where he opened the doors in the back, exposing large kennels. Quickly, Officer Aarons opened one, then started to lean down to pick Harry up.

_"No way,"_ the emerald-eyed Newfoundland said bluntly, the words coming out in a low rumbling whine that wasn't really a growl. Harry, careful of his bad leg, awkwardly jumped up into the kennel, one of his back legs missing and scrabbling, only to be helped quickly by Officer Aarons, who closed the door after making sure he had a bowl of water and some food. When the outer doors closed as well, the Boy-Who-Live-to-be-turned-into-a-dog-apparently, lapped at the water as he forced his thoughts away from all the fascinating scents surrounding him and onto what was happening.

_Okay,_ he thought grimly_, let's straighten this out, Potter. You're stranded in America as a dog, with no way to contact anyone in Britain. You've no wand, you're hurt, and you've been picked up and are on the way to the vet where they may just snip off your boys and adopt you out to someone who wouldn't know kibble from cat litter. Not only that, but Voldemort is running about doing Merlin knows what across the pond, and you've no notion of what's going on over __there__ either. You're just buggered, aren't you?_

Sighing, he turned his attention to the dry dog food, sniffing it, before thinking _what the hell_ and taking a brave bite. Deciding it tasted all right, he crunched away at the kibble, munching as he shifted slightly in the slightly cramped space of the kennel. The fact that he'd been able to turn around had been amazing. If his leg hadn't been hurt and curled close, and if he hadn't been so emaciated, he didn't think he'd be able to do it in the first place. Finishing the small bowl, Harry drank another few laps of water, then settled in for a doze, wondering how long it would be until they got to the vets.

He just hoped that neutering wasn't on the list of things to do, because if it was, he was _so_ going to bite the first person who tried…

**A/N: **And that's the first chapter. So, what do you think? Not the usual Animagus!Harry fic, I hope!

**R&R~!**


	2. Chapter One: Doctors Orders

**A/N: **So far people like this… Well, I'm having fun writing it, so even if y'all DIDN'T like it, I'd still write it.

**R&R~!**

**Chapter One**

Harry woke when the car stopped for more than it took for traffic lights to change color, or to stop at a stop sign. Yawning, he blinked as he listened to the thump of the front door opening and shutting, and waited, tail unconsciously thumping, as Officer Aarons (hopefully) made his way around to the back. Because, if Harry was honest, he was _really_ starting to not like the cramped space of the kennel thing he was in. _Especially_ since his lower back itched, and he _could not reach it._ it was irritating him to no end, and when the back doors _finally_ opened, he whined and wriggled eagerly, instinct actually having him _lick_ the metal bars of his kennel door before he could control the well of purely canine influence and emotion that had welled up at the sight of the familiar man.

"Easy, easy, boy," the man soothed, opening the cage. Harry _really_ wanted out, but he knew better then to try and jump down with his bum front leg, and grudgingly let Officer Aarons lift him out and carefully set him on the ground, whining in pain as his ribs ached. As soon as the man released him, Harry jerked his head around on instinct, and gnawed on the itching spot a few inches above the base of his tail, whimpering until the itching was finally soothed. Then he sighed and straightened, relieved, and chose to ignore the laughter he'd incited from the man next to him. He sat down tiredly, and blinked as Officer Aarons wrapped a thin leash around his broad neck, and began to gently coax him down the sidewalk and towards the doors of what Harry guessed was the veterinarians' office, or animal hospital.

They entered a side-door, Harry surmised when they weren't in a reception area, and Officer Aarons led him down a hallway with pale blue tiled floors and off-white walls. _Funny_, he thought, limping heavily after the man. _I always thought dogs saw in black and white… Either they don't and have been fooling us for years so that they can secretly plan to rule the world, or I've kept my human vision._ He pondered on that for a few moments, and then desperately hoped there wasn't a doggy version of himself and Voldemort running around, because if there was, he was _so_ pissing on Fate's shoes or something when he found her. Him. It. _Whatever!_

"Hey, Mary," Officer Aarons greeted a blond woman who looked about forty something with dark gray eyes, who was wearing a blue nurses uniform. "I've got a new patient for you." The woman turned her gray eyes on Harry, and he grinned when they widened, his tail wagging, before the woman was crouched down and offering her hand, which Harry was happy enough to snuffle and lick, his doggy-instincts declaring the woman (who smelled like soap, animals, cherries, and mint) safe and friendly, and so he limped forward and nearly knocked her on her arse when he pushed his head gently against her chest. Mary laughed.

"He's such a sweetheart!" she declared, cooing at him, and Harry groaned happily when she, too, found that spot on his rump that Officer Aarons had scratched earlier. "It's always amazing when they still trust humans, after they've been treated so badly by us," she said, sadness darkening her eyes, and Harry whined, drooling on her while he attempted to lick her face, something prevented by the vet when she pushed his face away from hers, laughing softly. "Let's get you fixed up, big guy," she said, shaking her head and wiping drool from her hand and onto her pants. Harry whined and heaved himself up and followed her to a steel table, yelping softly in pain when Officer Aarons picked him up and set him on the table, bumping his broken leg a bit.

"Sorry," he murmured, petting him soothingly and apologetically. Harry licked his hand, accepting the apology. After all, he hadn't done it on purpose. Harry stood as still as he could as Mary examined him, talking about malnutrition, fleas (which he had no idea how he got, by the way. Must have been from the alley…Or Dudley. Yeah, probably from Dudley.), how the scratch on his side didn't need stitches but _did_ need cleaning, and how he had plenty of scars (He was rather pleased to see, in a nearby mirror, that he didn't have a lightning bolt _anywhere_ on him. It was a _scar_ after all, but he wouldn't put it past his magic or Fate to have put a bright white lightning bolt on his head or something…). She had him lay down for X-rays, which he did without a fuss, and was extremely pleased when they gave him a treat that tasted like bacon for being a 'good boy'. The vet came back with the X-rays ten minutes later, while Officer Aarons had moved Harry over next to a large tub/sink/shower _thing_ which he could only assume he'd be getting a flea-bath in.

"His left leg is definitely broken," Mary told the Animal-Officer (as Harry thought of him as). "He also has some badly bruised ribs, and a few are cracked. I'm not sure if he was hit by a car, or badly beaten, or both," she said, shaking her head. "He doesn't have a microchip, though, and he hasn't been neutered-" Harry growled at the word, the deep rumbling sounding strange and loud, like thunder, in the metal tub. Officer Aarons and Mary froze and stared at him, suddenly wary.

"He's never done that before," Officer Aarons said, hand having gone instinctively to his gun, before he cautiously held out his hand. Harry whined, tail wagging and licked the hand, panting happily at him. Mary pursed her lips, eying him.

"Jack, move back a second, I want to see something," she told him, and Officer Aarons (_Jack_, Harry thought, which was much shorter and easier to think and refer to the man as) obediently moved back, looking curious and a little confused. Mary stared at Harry, and said, voice calm, clear, and gentle, "Neuter." Harry growled at her, immediately, and she smiled slightly. "Fixed." Harry growled again. "Snip-snip." Harry continued to growl. "Cookies." Harry whined, confused, and wagged his tail, wondering if he'd _get_ cookies. Unless, of course, she meant _his_ cookies…

"That's…Weirdly impressive," Jack admitted, staring at Harry, startled. "He reacts like that to any time you mention neutering him." Harry growled immediately, and Jack shook his head.

"He sees it as a threat, maybe," Mary said idly, reaching forward and scratching behind Harry's good ear, making him whine happily. "Or maybe he's been trained with certain words, like some dogs are trained in different languages. Why anyone would you _this_ to train a dog, I have no idea, but," she shrugged; Jack winced.

"I'd sure as hell feel threatened if someone was talking about cutting off _my_ balls," he grumbled; Harry growled, then whined, sitting down and hunching, tail curling close. He was getting mighty uncomfortable with this conversation. Mary shook her head.

"We'll leave _that_ decision to his owners," she decided, and turned to Harry. "Let's get you washed up and then a cast on your leg, and wrap those ribs, eh, pooch?" Jack scratched Harry's head one last time, but bid them farewell, as he had to leave since he still had work. Mary set about washing his thick black fur, careful of his many bruises and pains, though he still whined in pain while trying to enjoy the water and treatment. It felt _nice_ to get all the muck and ick out of his fur.

"You are _way_ too thin for my liking, big boy," Mary muttered as she called one of the Technicians (who was helping feed a litter seven a week-old kittens whose mother had died giving birth) over to help her lift him out of the tub when she finished. Harry shook furiously, yelping when he jostled his own leg, and sat on the towel-covered metal table, while the Techie went back to the mewling little bodies curled up in the cage nearby. Harry sniffed after him, but refrained from going over to look at the no-doubt adorable kittens so that Mary could dry him off with first a towel, and then a blow-dryer. Once he was mostly-dry, the vet began to tightly (but not _too tightly_) wrap his ribs in blue gauze, after putting some antiseptic and a pad over the cut on his side. Harry whimpered in pain, but didn't move.

When she'd finished wrapping his leg in a matching blue cast made of layers upon layers of gauze, Harry was utterly mortified when she wrapped one of those white cones around his neck. Aunt Marge, Vernon's sister, had a mean little bulldog named Ripper, and the only time Harry had ever remembered being happy to see the little blighter was when he'd had a cone like this on his head, which had prevented him from not only gnawing on the raw bald spot on his rump, but had kept the bloody bastard from biting _everything_ that wasn't put right into his mouth. It had been hilarious, watching him try to eat out of his food bowl, which, thanks to the cone, was always an inch or two away from his nose. Now that he was seeing it from the canine's point of view, though…

Yeah, not _quite_ so funny.

"Come on, sweetheart," Mary said gently, and led him down a hall of barking cages of dogs. Harry winced, unable to see unless he turned his head awkwardly to look to see what dogs were at his sides, and so he didn't try.

_"New guy, new guy, new guy!"_ a hyper, high-pitched bark exclaimed excitedly.

_"Shut up, ingrate!"_ A deeper voice barked. _"I'm trying to sleep!"_

_"I just wanted to get the ball,"_ a confused, pained voice whined tiredly. _"Why didn't that car stop? My leg hurts so bad…"_ Harry whined in sympathy, limping along, and finally Mary opened a large, unoccupied cage with a large doggy bed in it and let Harry in, unclipping the leash as she did. A bowl of food and water sat in the corner, and a purple-and-blue rope toy sat near that. The floor was concrete, but it wasn't cold against the pads of his feet.

"Here you go, big boy," she said, petting his head awkwardly inside the cone; Harry whined, sitting in the bed and looking up at her. "I think that's what we'll call you, until you get adopted. Big Boy. BB." Harry whined again, and yawned. There were worst names, after all. Like Blacky, or something unoriginal like that. Of course, now that he thought about it, Harry wasn't a very original name either... The woman smiled, and left the cage, scribbling something on a paper before clipping it on the clipboard stuck to the front of his cage. She looked in on him for a second or two more, and Harry stared back, sitting with his casted leg held up and close to his body, before she finally left.

Immediately, Harry could see the cage across from him, one of the few that were on that side of the hallway, he'd noticed while walking. A very large dog lounged in the cage, watching him with lazy brown eyes, his black-and-brown brindle fur looking bright and healthy despite the yellow gauze that wrapped his right back leg, long and bony tail, and his head. He, too, wore a funnel, much wider and larger then Harry's own, as his large muzzle was longer then Harry's own, and he looked to be taller than the boy-turned-Newfoundland as well. Harry blinked, finally recognizing the other dogs breed from the one time he'd seen fifteen minutes of a Dog Show at Ms. Figgs when he was eight (before the cat-obsessed old woman had seen it, actually _hissed_, and turned it off).

He was a Great Dane.

_"What happened to you, young one?" _The Dane asked him, voice deep and hoarse, and Harry sniffed the air, breathing in the scent of dog, male, flea-shampoo, freshly-cut grass, and something that made him feel inexplicitly younger than the other dog.

_"My human family hates me,"_ he replied simply, blinking at him, and wondering why he called the Dursley's his _human_ family, when all he'd meant to say was family… Strange canine instincts. _"And you, elder one?"_ he asked respectfully, and the Dane smiled at him, large tongue lolling out.

_"Cars and I disagree,"_ he said easily, and Harry grinned, tail wagging, before he carefully laid down, whining in pain as his various bumps and bruises protested. _"You'll be safe here, though, young one," _the Dane assured him. _"None of these humans smell of sickness of the mind or heart, so they won't hurt you needlessly or purposefully."_ Harry nodded, wondering what, exactly a 'sickness of the mind or heart' smelled like. _"Mary, your vet, she said you're going to be called BB now?"_ Harry nodded, and the Dane nodded back. _"I'm Zeke. I was named by one of the Techs."_ Harry nodded again, then yawned. _"Go to sleep, BB,"_ Zeke ordered, brown eyes calm and easy. _"You'll feel better when you wake up."_ Harry nodded _again_ (he seemed to be doing that a lot), and curled up as best he could with his bound ribs. Closing his eyes, he wondered how his life as Newfoundland Big Boy would be, compared to his life as Wizard Harry Potter.

It couldn't be any worse, after all, since he was pretty sure he'd convinced Mary he didn't need neutering. That was his main worry, and it was gone for now, so, he'd sleep, then eat, and then find something else to worry about later. That decided, Harry slipped into a doze, and, soon, into a dreamless sleep, despite the uncomfortableness of the cone pressing against his neck.

**A/N:** And the next Chappy has been finite!

**R&R!**


	3. Chapter Two: Testing, Testing

**A/N:** And wow, this has a fan base…

Whoot!

**R&R~!**

**Chapter Two**

Harry woke slowly, yawning hugely, before he heaved himself to his feet and limped lightly over to the food and water dish that were sitting in the corner of his cage. He'd been at the animal hospital for three weeks, and he was now well-used to the routine that had settled around him. He would wake up, awkwardly eat his food and drink his water (usually making a fool of himself trying to do it, thanks to the fecking cone), chew on his rope toy, and wait for one of the volunteers or Techies to take him for walkies… Which sounds a lot more childish then it should, but Harry loved the walks most of all, because he got so _tired_ of that damn cage. Zeke was nice enough to talk to, but he'd gotten a foster home three days ago, and now the cage across from Harry's was depressingly empty.

"Hey, BB," a familiar Techie named Jason greeted from the cage door, blue leash in hand, and Harry whined in greeting, wagging his tail happily. His walk would be earlier than usual, it seemed. "We're going to take you to do some tests, okay, buddy?" _Tests?_ Harry wondered, whining as the leash was clipped on the blue collar they'd given him the day after he'd first arrived. The last time they'd taken him for tests, Harry had gotten blood drawn, and when they'd shown he'd never had his vaccinations, he'd gotten several shots. He did _not_ want more shots, thank-you-very-much! They hurt, and he reluctantly limped after Jason, easily ignoring the other dogs (Especially the yappy Jack Russell Terrier in one of the front cages, the one who'd shouted 'new arrival' and barked up a storm about whoever was walking by.).

Jason led him past the doors that would have taken them outside and into the courtyard, where the dogs were usually taken. Harry stopped and whined up at Jason, but obediently limped after him when the twenty-year-old tugged lightly on the leash and said his "name". The young man instead led the Newfoundland into a room where Mary was waiting. Harry whined happily at seeing his "doctor", and limped eagerly toward her when his leash was clicked off.

"Hey, Big Boy," Mary greeted warmly, scratching his ears without having to worry about bruises, since they'd healed. Harry panted happily, and snuffled at her, his strong nose picking up the scent of his favorite bacon-flavored treats, and he whined happily while Mary laughed. "You know I've got something, don't you boy," she said, amused, and Harry sat, whining at her, making his eyes as big and doleful as he could. _I am cute and adorable,_ he thought at her. _You want to give me the yummy treat. You cannot resist my cuteness._ Marry ruffled his ears and stood, _without_ giving him a treat, to his dismay, and nodded at Jason, who handed her a…fake human arm? Harry cocked his head to the side.

"Let's do the adoption tests, and then he can go for his walk, alright," she said cheerfully, and a bowl of meat was set in front of him, his cone removed. Confused but happy with the treat, Harry shrugged it off and dug into the meat…until that strange plastic hand pushed into his way, dragging the bowl away. _What the bloody hell?_ he wondered, cocking his head, and eying the hand while licking his muzzle. He frowned, and started eating his food again and, again, the hand moved it away, poking at his mouth. Huffing, Harry sat back and whined, wanting the food but apparently not allowed to enjoy it in peace.

"So he's not protective of his food when an adult tries to take it," Jason said, writing something down on a clipboard. Harry blinked. Adoption tests. _Oh yeah,_ he suddenly thought. _They're trying to make sure I won't pull a Cujo and eat someone._ Harry had always loved that Stephen King book, the one time he'd managed to read it when he was twelve. A rabid Saint Bernard would be scary for anyone, even a wizard. He could understand not wanting to let a dog that would bite you around your children, so, when the meat bowl was placed in front of him again, he began to eat. This time, they used a fake child's hand on a stick to pet his head and poke at the food, and Harry whined, stopping to instinctively snuffle and lick at the hand, before going back to eating.

"Not a biter when children try for his food either, good," Jason said easily, marking something on his clipboard again. Next, the leash was once again clipped on him, and, after they let him finish the meat in the bowl without further disturbance, Mary opened the door and let in another Techie who had a dog Harry didn't recognize on a leash. Harry sniffed, and his nose filled with the smell of clean fur, candy canes, female, and dog. The dog was a breed he recognized as a Golden Retriever, with something mixed somewhere in her lineage, because she had some blackish markings on her face and paws. Her brown eyes were warm and friendly, and she smiled at Harry, tail wagging.

_"Hello BB,"_ she said cheerfully, voice soft, and warm, and Harry had time to nod slightly at her before she was distracted by Mary kneeling to scratch her behind the ears.

"Hey there, Roxy," she cooed, scratching lightly, before turning to address Jason, who was holding firmly onto Harry's leash, as if afraid he would jump at the female dog and rip her to shreds…maybe he was projecting, though. He _had_ been thinking about _Cujo _after all…

"Roxy is an old friend," Mary told the Tech, taking the leash from the other and nodding at her to leave, which she did. "She's a very sociable, friendly dog, and good with dogs and people alike. I thought Big Boy would do best to meet her first, since she's a bit playful, but not too excitable." Harry eyed the Golden Retriever as she got closer, and then shrugged, and grinned at her, tongue lolling out as he leaned down to sniff the smaller dog curiously.

_"It's a pleasure to meet you, Roxy,"_ he told her simply, easily, and Roxy barked, prancing around him, tail wagging, and asked him to play with her. Deciding to just go with it, the Gryffindor pranced around like an idiot after her, laughing and whining happily as they swatted and nipped at one another, careful of Harry's injured leg and much greater size (something he _seriously_ wasn't used to, but was happy with all the same). Mary and Jason declared him dog-friendly, and, after letting them play for a few minutes more, took Roxy away. Next, Mary brought in an apparently dog-friendly cat, kept at a very safe distance until they knew what Harry's reaction was. Harry sniffed in the cats direction, but made no move towards it. Instead, he laid down, set his head on his paws, and he and the cat stared at one another curiously.

It had jet black fur, and copper eyes, with a sleek, lithe, panther-like appearance and short, silky, and shiny fur. Had Harry been human, he'd have loved to pet the cat, but he wasn't, and couldn't, so instead, he sniffed towards the cat, breathing in the smell of male, smoke, and brown sugar, of all things. The cat blinked at him, looking thoughtful as he purred while Mary pet him.

"What kind of cat is that, Doctor Lyn?" Jason asked curiously, relaxing slightly now that it seemed like Harry wasn't going to go bonkers or something. Mary smiled easily, and carried the cat a few feet closer, crouching down; Harry made a point of not moving from his rather comfortable position on the floor, and even managed a yawn.

"He's a purebred Bombay cat," she told the Tech easily, watching Harry. "His name's Gabriel. I got him a few years ago as a kitten, when he was brought in from one of those animal hoarding homes." Jason grimaced, and Harry whined, rolling over onto his side and stretching, enjoying the lack of cone while it lasted.

_"You're not an ordinary dog,"_ Gabriel told him abruptly; Harry stilled, and lifted his head, eying the cat as he continued to stare at Harry, copper eyes bright with intelligence.

_"No,"_ Harry finally told him. _"I'm not." _The Bombay eyed him for a moment, then mreowed, and wriggled, slipping from Mary's hands and padding swiftly over to Harry, who only lifted his head so he could watch the cats progress. Gabriel didn't hesitate to rub up against Harry's chin, arching his back and purring as he rubbed his scent onto the Newfoundland, and the others scent onto him, and got rubbed as well. Harry whined, but only snuffled at the cat, having always liked the smell of a nice, clean cat, since Ms. Figgs cats usually smelled faintly of their litterboxes.

"Cat-friendly as well," Jason decided, as Gabriel climbed up onto Harry's broad back, curled up, and lay there, purring, while Harry straightened to lie straight with his front paws directly in front of him and his head high, panting happily, grinning in amusement at the smile of faint disbelief on Mary's face. Harry stood up carefully, and grinned even more when Gabriel tried to sink his claws in to hold on, and all he grabbed was thick fur. Carefully, Harry walked forward, turning his head every few seconds to check and make sure the cat wasn't in danger of falling, before he made it to Mary and whined, tail wagging.

"Good boy, BB," she said, and scratched his ears, giving him a bacon treat before picking her cat up. Harry panted cheerfully, sitting down. _This life is __so__ much better then Harry Potter's,_ he thought, pleased when Jason scratched his ears and was told to take him for his usual walk. He'd passed his adoption tests with flying colors. Once his cast was off, his picture would go up on the website, and they would make sure he was fostered out to someone with experience until a person who had proper qualifications could adopt him. He'd heard it all when they'd taken Zeke to _his_ foster-home (someplace where they trained and worked with Great Danes, and so had good experience with them), and so he would just have to wait for a little while longer…

Unfortunately, until his leg was healed, he still had to wear the damn _cone_, and Merlin help him if he didn't want to _gnaw_ the blasted thing to _shreds_. It irritated him to no end, that was for sure. Sighing as Jason put it back on his neck, he whined pitifully, and barely wagged his tail when the Techie gave him a treat to make up for it.

"I know you hate it, BB," the young man soothed, leading him out of the room and towards the familiar courtyard. "But we can't have you chewing off your bandage when your healing leg starts itching, now can we?" Harry whined again, though he understood. After all, he'd _tried_ to do just that, because _Merlin_ did it _itch_ but the cone proved itself more powerful, and he'd been defeated. He'd contemplated using magic to cheat, but then couldn't figure out a way to explain what had happened (not that he _could _have, but _still_…) and then he couldn't figure out _how_ he could have, as he didn't have a wand. So, he suffered, and clawed at his itchy, healing leg with his good ones whenever he needed to.

Right now, though, he would concentrate on enjoying the sun and wind and fresh air, though he could do without the bloody heat. Lifting his head, face curved in one of what most dog-people knew as the goofy-dog-grin, he breathed in the familiar smells of grass, trees, and all the other dogs who had come out here and done their, ahem, _business._ Once his usually "stop and just _breathe_" point had passed, Harry let the doggy-instincts take over, and promptly wondered around and attempted to cover as many of the scents with his own as possible. At first, it had been _unbelievably _embarrassing to go to the bathroom outside, _especially_ since the Techies had no problem with staring at you while you tried to find a nice place to, well, _do_-the-_doo_. He'd learned quick, though, how to just hide behind the doggy part of his mind, and let _that_ deal with everything while he sat back in his mind thinking about anything else but what he was doing _in front of someone_.

But now he re-emerged from that part of his mind, to find that his walk was almost over, and that it was time to start heading in. Whining sadly, Harry looked around the courtyard one last time wistfully, before he obediently followed Jason inside, choosing to ignore the handy-bag that the Tech dropped into the Biohazard can on their way in, as he usually did. Jason led him down the hall to his cage, put him inside, ruffled his ears, and walked away while Harry stretched with a yawn. _I wonder what Voldemort is doing_, he thought, unable to get particularly worried about it for some reason, his magic and canine mind working together to have him quickly turning his attention to the replenished food bowl in the corner of his cage.

Once he'd managed a few bites, Harry curled up in his bed, wishing wistfully for a bar of chocolate for some reason, before he closed his eyes and slid into a nap.

**A/N:** And here's the next installment! I hope y'all enjoyed it!

**R&R~!**


	4. Chapter Three: Doggie Speak

**A/N:** Neat! So many reviews already! (Wipes away tear) It makes me feel all tingly and happy inside.

**R&R~!**

**Chapter Three**

Harry was un_believably_ happy, and relieved, when the cast (and therefore that fecking, Voldemort-probably-made-in-his-youth, evil _Cone_) finally came off. He pranced, danced, rolled, and generally made a complete and utter fool of himself, to the amusement of the watching staff and Techies. Not that he _cared_, since his magic and his doggy instincts had long-since convinced him that worrying about the littlest things (according to them) would just make his fur fall out… Which was a _horrid_ mental image, and he did _not_ want it to become a reality, thank-you-very-much! It was funny, though, how he missed his solitary cage so damn much now though.

You see, the cage he'd been kept in was specifically for dogs that were injured and needed to recuperate, or dogs that couldn't stand to be around other dogs too much and _needed_ to be confined, for everyone's safety. Harry, now that he was no longer injured, could be moved in with the other adoptable dogs, after he was put up on the website, of course. So, he grinned for the camera twice, and stared at it solemnly for the third, before Jason took him to his new cage, this one a little smaller then his other one had been, and with neighbors on either side and directly in front of him.

"Here you go, BB," the young man said, smiling gently as he scratched the Newfoundland's ears, before leaving the cage and scribbling something on the ever-present clipboard. Harry was always tempted to knock the damn thing down and read it, but decided better, instead turning to look curiously at his neighbors. The one on his right was sleeping on his back, tongue lolling out, and snoring slightly. He was a black Labrador from what Harry had learned over the past few months of dog breeds, and he had a white splotch on his chest and left ear. Snorting in amusement, Harry turned his head to look at his left neighbor, and met the curious watery, brown eyes of a honey-blonde Cocker Spaniel mix, who smelled like dandelions, female, and sugar.

"_Hello,"_ she said softly, whining at him and Harry wagged his tail.

"_Hullo,"_ he greeted in return. _"My name's BB, or Big Boy, whichever you prefer. What's your name, Miss?"_ The Cocker wagged her tail, smiling at him, and licked her nose. It was actually kind of cute…

"_Honey,"_ she replied warmly; Harry pranced a little, and Honey laughed, a yipping bark escaping her as she pranced after him, and they touched noses through the cage, sniffing one another cheerfully.

"_You two are idiots,"_ a gruff voice snapped; Harry and Honey looked across the five feet that sat between their cages and the cages directly in front of them. A large dog Harry remembered as a Boxer sat eying them in irritation, the cages on either side of him empty. Harry breathed in, and sneezed at the smell of aggressive, angry male, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Honey sniffed daintily at the bigger black-and-white dg, her brown eyes irritated as well.

"_You're just want everyone to be as miserable as you are, Denver,"_ she told him sternly. _"And when they aren't, you have to throw a fit like a cat that's been doused in water, I swear!"_ Harry snickered and grinned over at his grouchy across-they-kennel-neighbor, who growled, turned his back, and moodily began to gnaw on his rope toy. Harry wagged his tail, and then shook his head, turned, and scooped up his own toy, though it was new, a long squeaky thing that was bright purple and supposed to be some kind of mammal… Harry wasn't exactly sure _what_ mammal, but it didn't matter. It was sure fun to chew on, though! Squeaking it in delight, he found himself running from one side of the cage to the other, with Honey happily chasing him, yipping at him and his _squeak-squeak-squeaking_ toy.

"_Wassa noise fo'?" _A young male voice asked from the right side of Harry's cage, and Harry looked over to see the snoring Labrador awake and blinking dark brown eyes at him blurrily from his back, head lolled to the side and paws curled against his chest.

"_Baxter, meet Big Boy, or BB!"_ Honey introduced Harry as she panted happily, slumping in her cushioned doggy bed and nuzzling a small stuffed bonny, laying her head on it as she tried to catch her breath. Harry flopped down on his own large bed, tongue hanging and dripping and obscene amount of drool down his front with the help of his hanging jowls. He'd learned rather quickly that exercise meant getting spit on himself, and ignored it easily.

"_Hullo,"_ he greeted the Lab, who yawned and rolled to his feet nimbly, blinking at Harry before scratching his ear.

"_Hiya, Newfy,"_ he greeted back easily. Harry wondered why he'd called him by a shortened version of his breed name, before he shrugged and turned his attention to his Squeaky, gnawing on it happily, and drowning the poor thing in drool.

"_That's disgusting,"_ Honey said, sounding both repulsed and amused; Harry grinned over at her, tail wagging, as his toy gave a particularly drawn out and loud _squeeeeeaaak_.

"_Can't help my breed, sweetheart,"_ he told her easily, shaking his head, toy in mouth, and sending drool flying. It splattered on the concrete, and Harry felt a strange sense of possessive smugness at the act, as if he had just scent-marked the cage or something. Honey snorted, turned her head away, and cuddled her bunny primly, smiling. Baxter had found his food dish and was ignoring them both, and Denver had yet to look over at them, now lying in his bed and giving himself a thorough, unabashed cleaning. _Ew…_ Harry thought, blinking at the Boxer, before turning his attention back to his Squeaky.

It was going to be an interesting time spent in the Adoption-Friendly area of the Animal Hospital, that was for sure.

**~(Line Break)~**

"Whoa, Mom, this one's _huge_!" a young boy of about ten declared, hooking his hands in the links of the door of Harry's cage. Harry whined happily at the attention of the young boy, though he sadly knew that he wouldn't be going home with him. He'd found out, rather quickly, the downside to being a BBD. A Big Black Dog. He was intimidating, and people didn't want to have to deal with his twice-to-three-times-a-week grooming (Thanks to his shaggier-and-thicker-than-usual fur), his large food intake, or his probable health-problems thanks to his breed. Even now, the little boys mother looked nervous with her child so close to him, so Harry made due with leaving his drool all over the boys hands, and then backing up to scoop up Squeaky and chew on it, sitting and looking wistfully at the boy as he chewed.

"That's Big Boy, or BB as we call him," Jenna, the head of Adoptions, explained to the mother quickly, soothingly. "He's a big ol' teddy bear, no worries. You could stick your head in his mouth, and the worse you'd probably deal with is getting covered in drool. He's about two years old**&** by our estimation, and a purebred Newfoundland. But," she said, looking at the clipboard that, no doubt, held the family's paperwork, "I don't think he'd like your two-bedroom apartment very much, and I don't think _you'd_ like the expenses he'll cost you." She said, and gestured to the cage next to Harry's, which had once belonged to Honey (she had been adopted not two days after Harry had been moved in, as had Baxter. Denver still graced the cage across from him, though). "Duke here is probably more to your tastes."

Duke was a six-month-old German Shepherd/Labrador mix, with a Labradors body and a German Shepherds coloring. He was a shy, gentle pup, who reminded Harry fondly of Neville Longbottom from back in first year, only without the constant fear and nervousness. He smelled like strawberries and mints as well, something that made Harry also fond of him. As Jenna spoke to the mother about Duke (how big he would get, his exercise needs, his grooming needs, things like that), her little boy had already fallen in love with the tentative puppy, who was licking his hands and getting pet through the bars. After thirty minutes, Harry watched sadly as he was once again left behind, and the puppy he'd began to become fond of was taken to his new home.

"_You might as well get used to being here, idiot,"_ Denver said bitingly, glaring darkly in the direction that the family had gone. He was curled up in his cage, and hadn't even bothered moving towards the front. Harry stared over at him, and wondered, suddenly, how he could stand the silence, with the two cages next to him empty. _"Dogs like us don't find homes easily, and when we do, they don't last long,"_ the Boxer continued, snuffling at his rope toy, pinned under one of his paws. Harry frowned.

"_What do you mean by that?"_ He asked warily; the dog snorted at him, and if he could sneer, Harry was sure it would have been Malfoy-worthy.

"_Mean-looking dogs,"_ he said simply. _"Oh, it doesn't matter that you're too much of a puppy to even try growling at the humans," _the Boxer told him, shaking his head when Harry straightened, insulted. _"It's the fact you're too damn big and mean __looking__ for most people to want you, and the ones that __will__ want you for that reason, are the ones who don't pass the procedures. I hear stories from other dogs and the humans around here, about Boxers being adopted really fast, __as long as they're friendly__." _He bared his teeth, and Harry lay back down slowly, eying him silently. _"I hate children. They pull on my fur and ears, and try to take my food. I hate cats, they think they're better then us and should be treated like royalty. And I can't stand dogs in __my__ territory, unless they want to have puppies, and then they'd best keep those puppies with them and out of my way, because the annoying little bastards think that the world is their Kibble-damned playground."_ He glared over at Harry, growling darkly.

"_I am not a __nice dog__. I don't have the temperament, the inclination, or the patience with the idiots of this world to be one. __You__, on the other hand, you sit there and you __know__ what it's like to be hurt by humans. You've been beaten by them, starved by them, abandoned by them, and yet you __still__ wag your tail whenever one comes your way. You like cats. You like dogs. You like __kids__. Now, some of that's from breeding, I know that much. A little might be from left over training. But you __can not__ tell me that you are such a fucking imbecile as to believe that they're all good?"_ Harry stared at him, tail stil, eyes unblinking, face solemn. Not even any drool dripped from his slavering jowls.

"_I know all that,"_ he said finally, quietly, staring at the Boxer. _"I know that there are bad humans, and that there are good ones too. I know that I scare people with my size, the responsibility they'd need to handle me, the money they'd have to spend to take care of me. I __know__ that. I also know that cats can be egotistical pricks who are just __begging__ to be chased up a tree, and that sometimes other dogs come looking for a fight on purpose. I know kids can be irritating and a pain at times as well, and pups, while I've never had any, can be as obnoxious as any human baby. But," _he said quietly, calmly. _"That will never change the fact that dogs and humans are companions. Sure, other animals can hold the titles as well, but the only ones who can come closest to usurping our place as oldest companion are cats, and __they're__ usually in it for a mostly self-centered reason. We were created, bred from our wild ancestors, to help humans today, whether with their work or simply by being a 'silent' friend they can confide in and not feel embarrassed about._

"_Yes, they abuse our trust," _Harry added. _"Yes, they hurt us, kill us, and dress us up in horrible pink atrocities so that they can prance us about like their personal, living dollies, but you know what, Denver?"_ he met the other dogs eyes. _"We let them. And do you know why?"_ At the small headshake, Harry tilted his head down, making his eyes more intensely focused on the black-and-white dog. _"Because some part of us deep inside, the part that goes beyond thought and emotion, will always be irrevocably bound to the wills and fates of humans. It is their will that began our many races, and their wills that will bring about our many ends. It is as simple— and as complicated—as that."_ He stood, and turned away from the Boxer, picking up Squeaky and moving to his bed. He circled around, and lay down, eyes sliding half-shut.

"_Think on that before the next family comes to adopt, why don't you,"_ he suggested, before yawning and snuggling his Squeaky close, closing his eyes. A good nap would wash away the strangeness he felt, of a human lecturing a dog on the fate of dogs being bound to man, while being a dog himself…

At least, he hoped it would.

**A/N:** You guys have no idea how hard it is to come up with conversations between dogs. What on earth do they talk about? World domination? Squirrels? Treats?

…_Sex?_...

**R&R~!**


	5. Chapter Four: Familiar Stranger

**A/N:** Good-er-Evening/morning/whatever, my loverly Reviewers-of-Doomage!

I hope you enjoy your next installment of NewfoundHope!

In case y'all haven't noticed, loads of timeskips have happened! Well, I won't be putting in exact dates and such all the time, but you'll be getting a hint of how long its been for Harry in Dog-Form in this chapter.

Remember, it was around the beginning of July when he first transformed.

Bark if you like it, howl if you don't!

**R&R~!**

**Chapter Four**

"Merry Christmas, Big Boy!" Mary declared as she entered his cage; Harry looked up from where he was curled on his bed, dozing. _Christmas?_ He wondered, startled. _It's been that long?_ "I've got a surprise for you!" Whining, tail thumping in confused happiness, Harry stood and obediently followed the doctor out when she clipped a leash on his collar and led him out of his cage and passed the filled cages surrounding him. They'd had a sudden intake of dogs when the Animal Cops had busted an animal hoarder who'd had a _hundred and seven_ animals in his small house near the Everglades, and _seventy-three_ of them had been dogs, thirty of which had been brought to this Hospital, while the others had been taken to other places that had openings. It was safe to say that the cages had gotten very loud the last few days.

Harry whined and nudged Mary questioningly when she led him past the courtyard, and down a hall he'd never been, towards a door and past a woman behind a desk who smiled at him warmly and pushed a button, which caused the door to buzz loudly and swing slowly open. Harry twitched at it, then sniffed at the door. _Muggle technology can be so __strange__ sometimes_, he thought as he followed Mary out into what he now knew to be the reception area.

A man was standing there waiting for them, his hands in his jean-pockets. He was about six-foot-two, with black hair and black eyes and dark red-brown skin. He had a hawkish face, sharp and observant, but there were smile-lines around his eyes and mouth, and when he saw them, his lips curved, deepening those lines. He looked about thirty years old.

"Is this the dog?" he asked, crouching down and offering a hand; Mary nodded happily and unhooked Harry's chain. Taking the hint, the boy-turned-Newfoundland didn't hesitate to let his curiosity take over, bounding forward to snuffle the mans large, callused hand in fascination.

Oh.

_Oh!_

He smelled like chocolate. A rather familiar, rich, dark chocolate. And mud, and snake, but it was underneath that achingly familiar chocolate scent that had Harry whining lowly and licking the mans hand, nuzzling it and shoving his way under it so he could lay his forehead against his broad chest and breath in more of that wonderful, painful, brilliant _scent_.

"I think he likes you!" The receptionist remarked, while Mary laughed and the confused but smiling man just went about scratching and petting Harry, who sat down, body hunched so he could keep his head against the strangers chest and breath in the familiar smell, his tail thumping steadily.

"I can safely say I have _never_ had a dog react to me that way before," the man said, shaking his head, before he stood, making Harry whine and stand as well, looking up at the man pleadingly. He didn't know who he was, but if he left, the boy-turned-Newfoundland just _knew_ he would sink into depression. You couldn't keep something safe and familiar away for so long, and them bring in a reminder of it, and take it away _again_ after all! That was just, just…Inhumane!

"So what do you think, Mr. Bloodcrow?" Mary asked, hope brightening her eyes. "You think Big Boy has the right stuff to join your dogs out in the wetlands, hunting 'gators? He is, after all, a water-breed, and he's big enough to take one on by himself if he has to." The man, Bloodcrow, pursed his lips, eying Harry, who sat at his feet and stared up at him, making his eyes as big and piteous as possible, whimpering.

"He any good at following commands?" The man finally asked; Mary nodded.

"Oh yes, unbelievably so," she gushed, relieved. "He knows and obeys every basic and most advanced commands, though some take him a moment because they confuse him. And he never barks, or growls or anything…well," she corrected herself. "Unless you mention anything referring to his trip-word, that is." Bloodcrow arched a brow.

"Trip-word?" he asked; Mary nodded, and snapped her fingers. Harry reluctantly turned his head towards her.

"Neuter," she said; instantly, he growled, the deep, thunderous sound vibrating his body, just as loud and intimidating as it had been the first time he'd heard it, sitting in that tub, all those months ago. "Snip-snip," Growl. "Fix." Growl. "Castrate." Snarl. "Ooh, that one always gets a bigger result." Bloodcrow had rocked back on his heels at the first growl, and was now staring down at Harry with an unreadable expression, black eyes glinting brightly with something Harry couldn't read as he was finally released from the 'no-no-word' growling thing he tended to do. He whined up at the man who smelled so familiar, and Bloodcrow reached down without any hint of fear-scent, only a comforting waft of dark, wild chocolate, and ruffled his ears.

"I'll take him," Bloodcrow said; Mary beamed, and they started on the paperwork, while Harry never left the mans side, his leash clipped back on and Squeaky retrieved from his cage. When everything was done, the Techies and staff said one last goodbye, and Mary hugged him, before he leaped into the front seat of Bloodcrow's red Jeep, and, tongue hanging and head stuck out the window, headed off to what was apparently going to be his new home, located somewhere isolated on the Everglades, where he'd have to share it with five other large, aggressive dogs, and his Werewolf owner, Jason Bloodcrow.

Life was good.

**~(Line Break)~**

It was a two hour drive before the finally reached their destination, a large two-story house on the swamplands, with a dirt road covered in patches of grass and a large motor-boat attached to a dock behind the house. The grass around the house was cut short, but the closer it got to the dirt water, the higher and wilder it got. When the Jeep pulled to a stop, five large dogs came bounding over from the porch, barking loudly in greetings to Bloodcrow and in challenge to Harry.

"Come on, boy," Bloodcrow said sternly, getting out and moving around to Harry's side of the car, opening the door. "Let's see how you play with the natives." Harry obediently hopped down from the car, and immediately found himself with a face-full of snarling spotted hound. He flinched back slightly, startled, and the dog attacked him even as Bloodcrow cursed and shouted something about "Dammit, Baron, no!" which the dog ignored. Harry jerked as the hounds teeth dug into the thick fur of his neck, trying to find purchase, and then his eyes narrowed. A deep, thunderous growl tore from his throat and, with a hard swing of his paw, he sent the much smaller dog rolling with a loud yelp, and stood, tail and head held high, glowering and growling darkly at the impudent dog. Bloodcrow eyed him with the same inscrutable look he'd worn when he'd seen the way Harry had reacted to any variation of the word 'neuter', and the other dogs watched him warily now.

All but one was male, and the only female was a one-eyed, all-gray dog with a lean, tall body and a bob-tail. The spotted dog got up and crouched, eying him watchfully, growling, and Harry bared his teeth at him, snarling. He didn't have a problem with other dogs, honestly he didn't. But the little buggering berk had just tried to rip out his fecking _throat_! Stalking forward, his bulky body vibrating with the force of his growl and tension, he stood over the crouched dog and glared furiously, until, with great reluctance, the dog finally rolled over and showed his throat and belly. After staring down at him broodingly for a few minutes, Harry snorted, stopped growling, and pranced over to Bloodcrow, whining happily, as if nothing had happened, tail a a-wag and tongue lolling. Bloodcrow carefully set his hand on the Newfoundland's head, and scratched his ears, making Harry whine happily and lean against his leg, panting cheerfully even as his sharp green eyes watched the other dogs. There were no words between them, as yet, only silent stares and assessing sniffs.

"Bear," Bloodcrow said suddenly; Harry sneezed, and blinked up at him, drool dripping down his chin. "I think I'll name you Bear." Harry grinned up at him, then stood and moved carefully towards the other dogs, making sure his body held absolutely no aggression or challenge. He was met by the female first, who sniffed his face curiously, gold eye bright and watchful. "That's Lady, my Weimaraner and Tracker," Bloodcrow introduced; she smelled like cotton, mud, female, and the beginning of what Harry knew to be her Heat-cycle. One of the four males stepped up, head high and brown eyes dark. They sniffed one another cordially. He was Rottweiler, and smelled like aggression, water, and vanilla. "Frank, my Rottweiler and one of my Soldiers."

The next male that stepped up carried with him the smell of the alpha of this small five-dog pack (underneath Bloodcrow, that is) and met Harry's eyes without flinching, the one-blue, one-brown mix a little disconcerting. He was a very large Husky, and Harry ducked his head slightly in acknowledgment to the already-instated Alpha. He wasn't here to make trouble, after all, but to live peacefully. The Alpha dog smelled like pine, snow, and warm fur, for some reason, but it was oddly comforting.

"That's Cortez, my Lead Dog and Husky," Bloodcrow introduced. "You'll follow his, and _my_, orders out on the swamp, Bear, or you'll be 'Gator chow." Harry whined in agreement, nodding again to Cortez, who woofed slightly in greeting. The next dog stepped up, and Harry immediately recognized the wheaten-colored, rough-coated Otterhound, a dog who originated from Great Britain. He smelled like salt, the sea, and rain. The dog's tail wagged and he had no qualms in nudging Harry's cheek in friendly greeting, which Harry silently returned. It seemed that, with the Alpha's place recognized, he could be welcomed, at least a little bit.

"That's Nemo, my Otterhound and another Tracker, but he's also my Flusher, he flushes the smaller prey out when we're not hunting 'Gators." Harry whined curiously, and Nemo grinned, tongue lolling out cheerfully.

"_I like to chase ducks and rodents,"_ he told Harry simply; Harry grinned back at him, tail wagging.

"_Sounds fun, mate,"_ he said; the Otterhound barked and danced a bit in excited agreement, before moving so that he could see the spotted dog from before, who was glaring at him with angry gray eyes. _Odd color for a dog,_ Harry thought, eying him, and sniffing at him from where he was. He didn't want to start a conflict again. The spotted dog smelled like aggression, apple pie, and cinnamon. The dog, Baron if Harry remembered, did not try to approach him, staying well away from the much bigger dog.

"And you've met Baron, my Catahoula Leopard and another Soldier," Bloodcrow drawled, smirking slightly, before he started off towards the house. Harry and the other dogs didn't hesitate to run after him, Lady and Nemo coming up on either side of Harry while Cortez and Frank took the lead, and Baron brought up the rear. Bloodcrow took them up onto the porch, where he paused, and glanced back at Harry.

"Work out your sleeping arrangements with the rest of the pack, Bear," he said idly, and went inside, closing the door. Harry sat down on the porch, tail thwaping the ground rhythmically as the other dogs turned their attention to him.

"_So,"_ he said, grinning cheerfully. _"What trick do I have to pull to get a decent place to sleep around here?"_ Lady and Nemo grinned at him, while Cortez merely stared, and Frank and Baron bared their teeth in what Harry knew to be the canine version of sneers. Harry just grinned. _This is going to be interesting…_


	6. Chapter Five: First Hunt

**A/N:** Sorry for the long wait for this chapter, my Muse disappeared shortly after the previous chapter was finished.

ANYways…

**R&R~!**

_**Chapter Five**_

Three weeks of nothing but running with the Pack (and a fantastic night hunting water foul on the full moon with his owner), and Harry was as curious as a kitten when Jason ordered them into the boat.

"_Woo-hoo, we're going 'gator Huntin'!__"_Lady sang out, leaping onto the large craft, silver fur gleaming. The Weimaraner was only just starting to show her pregnant state. Jason had taken her to a breeder, instead of just locking her up and letting the rest of the Pack go crazy with her Heat-Scent. Harry was grateful for that, at least. He didn't want to know if any puppies he had would be all dog or something else...

"_How does this work, anyways?__"_ Harry asked curiously as he leaped into the front of the boat, making it bob heavily.

"_Jason will find a 'gator on land,__"_ Nemo told him easily, flopping down on the floor next to him as Harry sat tall, tongue lolling. _"__He'll block it in with the boat, and then Cortez will lead Frank and Baron, and you now, to harry it. Lady and I will be keeping an eye out for any others, and make sure that it doesn't try and slip away. While all that's happening, Jason will be trying to get a good shot, either from the boat or he'll come on land.__"_

"_Sounds dangerous,__"_ Harry noted; the Otterhound grinned at him.

"_It is,__"_ he agreed. _"__But fun.__"_

"_Not as fun as Hog Huntin',__"_Lady declared as she made her way over to the two. _"__That's when me'n Nemo getta let our hair down, as th' humans say.__"_ She shook herself and grinned at them. _"__It's how I lost my eye, too.__"_ Before Harry could reply, Jason was up front with them, carrying three different colored vest-like things.

"Time to suit up," he told them, and Harry looked past him to see that the rest of the Pack was wearing the vests already. Cortez had a bright blue one, Frank had a yellow one, and Baron's was green. Jason put a red one on Nemo, and a pink one on Lady, before turning to Harry. "Come here, Bear. You need your Kevlar vest too." He held up a neon orange doggie vest, with **BEAR** written in black along either side. Harry obligingly stood still as it was wrapped around his vulnerable stomach and neck. "This is your armor. You'll wear this anytime we're hunting, no matter what the prey is. It'll keep your soft-sides safe, and the bright color will protect you from any other hunters who may be stalking the Everglades, alright?" He tightened one last buckle, tugged to make sure that it was snug but not uncomfortable, before roughly ruffling the Newfoundland's ears and going back to the wheel.

"Let's get to hunting," the Werewolf announced. "I've got ten tags to fill and we're going to get some big ones today." Cortez led the Pack in a bunch of baying and howling.

**~(Line Break)~**

"There's a good one," Jason declared, spotting one of the large reptiles a little ways up the bank. Quickly, he pulled his boat in close, and Harry and Nemo moved quickly to join Cortez on the side facing the now-hissing alligator. "Hunt!" Jason barked; Cortez snarled and leaped into the shallow water just a foot away from the shore, Frank, Baron, and Harry immediately leaping after him, and the four of them lunged up the small bank towards the 'gator.

"_Frank, Bear, circle left,__"_ Cortex ordered, deep voice hard and stern. _"__Baron, with me to the right. Lady, Nemo, keep an eye on the water and grass.__"_ The Pack obeyed, circling the 'Gator, who had opened its mouth to growl at them. Baron lunged forward and snapped at its front at the same time Frank bit its tail. The 'Gator snarled and snapped at them, and Harry lunged forward when it turned to snap at Frank, and the Newfoundland sank his teeth gum-deep in the heavy muscles just behind the 'Gator's head, and shook firmly. The 'Gator snarled and began to thrash, and Harry was forced to let go, but not before he'd dug a decent chunk out of its neck. Cortez dove in with Baron, and they both latched onto the 'Gator's neck on the opposite side, distracting it so that Harry could latch onto its tail when Frank took up the Newfoundlands previous hold. The four dogs were relentless, and then, suddenly, Jason was there, rifle pointed right at the 'Gator's head, and made the killing shot.

"Good job!" Jason praised them, tossing each of them, Nemo and Lady included, a piece of jerky-like meat as a reward. "Bear, this is your first time hunting, and you did good," he told Harry, ruffling his ears with rough affection. "Just try not to do too much damage to the 'Gators, okay? It'll deduct from the overall price." Harry barked and wagged his tail, panting happily as he scrambled into the boat with the rest of the Pack, while Jason implemented his Werewolf strength to dump the alligator's corpse into the boat.

"Nine more to go, guys," he said with a feral grin, and the Pack barked happily as he once more took to the water, all eyes sliding over the banks in search of their prey.

**~(Line Break)~**

Harry was pleasantly exhausted by the time they returned to Jason's house, all ten tags filled and the only injuries being some bruises to Cortez's side after a lucky tail-shot from the last alligator, and a nasty scratch to Baron's leg from an unlucky landing when jumping from the boat (none of them had seen that stick there, and they could only be thankful that he hadn't been impaled.). Despite the lack of serious injury, however, Jason loaded them all into the large delivery van he had for transporting his dogs and prey alike, Lady getting the front seat first. After selling the 'Gators to one of his usual buyers and then one of the smaller 'Gators to a taxidermist for a decent price, he took all six of his dogs to the vet.

_"Damn it, I just got out of here," _Harry complained without any real heat as they pulled up to the Hospital he had left just a month before. That didn't stop him from leaping from the van to run up to and greet Mary, drooling happily as his whole body wagged with his tail while the woman laughed and hugged him, dragging her fingers through his thick, messy black fur.

"Big Boy!" She cried with a happy smile. She looked over at Jason, and her smile widened. "How'd his first hunt go?" Jason smiled as he let the rest of the Pack out.

"Pretty well, all things considered," he told her, scratching Nemo under the chin absently when the Otterhound leaned happily against his side. "But Baron's got a nasty scratch on his leg from a stick, and Cortez got clipped in the side by a tail, so I thought it prudent to get them all checked anyways." Mary smirked.

"Just like you do every hunt when one of them gets hurt, hmm?" Jason's smile turned sheepish.

"Yeah, well, if I'm focused on one that gets hurt obviously, another of them could have gotten hurt to a lesser degree, and it could get worse if I miss it, so, yeah." He let out a sheepish laugh as Lady settled on his other side, panting happily. "Better safe than sorry!" Mary shook her head and gestured them towards the door.

"Well, all of you just follow me. I'll take a look at you!" She grinned and led them all inside. Harry greeted various techies and doctors, investigated new dogs and other animals, and took his examination like a pro, sitting totally still as Mary used a pair of tweasers to pull a splinter from his paw, panting happily.

"All done with you, sweetheart," she told him affectionately, and Harry licked her cheek before jumping down and padding over to the cat-kennels, sticking his nose against a door to snuffle at a pretty calico kitten that meowed and nuzzled against his snout happily. Baron snorted derisively from where he was getting his leg bandaged, glowering darkly from around his cone. The Catahoula Leopard hadn't needed any stitches, thankfully, but he and Cortez (who had several bruised ribs, but no fractured or broken ones) were out of the hunting roster until they healed. Frank, as the second-in-command of the Pack, would take over orders and hunting details until then. After discussing the treatment needed for Cortez and Baron, and giving all the dogs some love, Mary waved goodbye as they all climbed into the van (Cortez got to sit up front on the way home this time) and started on their way home.

As soon as they pulled in, Harry happily sprawled into the grass near the house and heaved a pleased sigh, Lady and Nemo, his two undisputed best friends in the Pack, joined him, with the Otterhound sprawling onto the Newfoundland's back.

_"Hunting is fun,"_ Harry decided; the other two grunted in sleepy agreement and, soon, the entire Pack was napping, with Cortez and Baron allowed inside so that they could rest comfortably. All in all, with was a very good day, Harry decided as he slipped into a full sleep.

A very good day.

**A/N:** And there you go!

Don't Forget To Review!

**TIMELINE! **

START OF FIC: Summer between fourth & fifth year (Late June/Early July, 1995)

HARRY/BEAR'S ADOPTION: Christmas during what would have been his Fifth Year (December 25, 1995)

FIRST HUNTING TRIP: Late January/Early February of what would have been his Fifth Year. (January/February, 1996)


	7. Chapter Six: Hog Hunting PT 1

**A/N:** Here's your next chapter, enjoy!

Don't Forget To Review!

_**Chapter Six**_

_"What the hell is that?"_ Harry asked, staring blankly at the downright _strange_ lizard that was hissing at him angrily. Lady and Nemo were standing nearby, staring as well, though much more warily.

_"That's a Monitor Lizard, Bear,"_ Nemo said cautiously. _"They're really fast, bite hard, and can hurt you with their tails, too..."_ Harry tilted his head, and smacked his paw on the ground close to the lizard, making it hiss and lunge at the paw, before jumping back at the same time Harry moved his paw back. Slowly, Harry's tail began to wag and soon he was playing a demented game of "I'm Not Touching You!" with the irked lizard, whining happily and drooling all over as he did.

_"Bear, stop teasing the lizard,"_ Cortez ordered from his cushion on the porch, giving the Newfoundland a stern look. _"Kill it or run it off, but stop teasing."_ Harry pouted but nodded.

_"Yes, Cortez," _he agreed, before lunging forward and snapping his jaws around the lizards neck, shaking it viciously until it stopped moving, dead, and he was dizzy, sitting abruptly. Lady and Nemo cheered, barking and dancing around him cheerfully, as he stood and carried the lizard over to where Jason was working on his Jeep.

"Very nice, Bear," the Werewolf praised him, taking the lizard inside with him and dropping it into a cooler, to transport it to one of his business partners to sell. Just as he returned to the Jeep, the Pack started barking, Harry adding his deep, rumbling howls into the cacophony as a car drove down the road towards them.

"Shut up, you guys," Jason called mildly. "It's just Sophie." That got most of them to quiet down, Harry following their que instinctively, even though Baron continued to back and growl, looking ridiculous with the cone around his head (not that Harry would tease him about it, as he knew exactly what that horrible cone was like, and didn't wish it on anyone, not even the cantankerous purebred). Soon, the red car slowed to a stop, and out of the drivers seat stepped a tall, lean woman with light, olive skin, short black hair with dyed purple tips, and a purple suit with a silver blouse under it. She smiled warmly at Jason as she approached, getting a hug from the Werewolf, which she returned with an added kiss to his cheek.

"Sorry I haven't been down to see you all lately," she told him in a sweet, warm voice. "I got stuck in France at a Show." Jason nodded and the woman turned her tawny brown eyes on Harry, face lighting up in a smile. "So, this is the new mutt, huh?" Jason chuckled and nodded again.

"Bear, come," he called; Harry happily trotted over,. drooling promptly on the pretty woman's hands as she scratched his neck and chin, peering at him. He felt the brush of what could only be magic come over him, and shook himself immediately at the weirdly itchy feeling as the woman, Sophie, straightened up and wiped her hands on the dirty car rag Jason offered.

"Well, he's definitely a purebred Newfoundland," she announced. "Strong in passive magic, almost to the point that I'm sure he'll have some accidental outbursts. It means he's got a high intelligence, will heal a bit faster, and age far slower than normal. I'll give you a potion to add into his food, which will redirect the magic that's making his eyes that beautiful green, and that magic will probably go into strengthening his eyesight as is, making it sharper, or allowing him to see in the dark. After that, he'd be the perfect candidate for any Dog Shows you lend him out for, even the agility shows, as he's intelligent almost to the point of human, though he has a definitely doggy shade to his thoughts." She smiled affectionately down at Harry, who wagged his tail in confused happiness as she handed him a dog treat from out of her purse.

"Thanks, Sophie," Jason smiled with a flirtatious edge. "Would you like to stay for lunch?" Sophie smiled back, lips curled in a cat-like way.

"Oh, yes," she murmured, sashaying past him towards his house. "You know I'll always stay for some of _your_ cooking, Jason." The Werewolf grinned sharply, and followed her in, closing the door and leaving all the dogs firmly on the outside. Within twenty minutes, the whole Pack could hear the couple, and, unless they were eating really _fantastic_ food, they weren't having lunch. Harry shook his head and joined Nemo and Lady at the edge of the water, nosing around for small animals they could chase.

**~(Line Break)~**

Three months after her first visit, Sophie had become a weekly visitor, and Harry's eyes were now a chocolate-brown thanks to a surprisingly tasteless potion. He missed his green eyes sometimes, but otherwise was completely happy as he was now. Three more full moons had gone by, with the whole Pack hunting on each one and eating together as a true Pack. And they had gone hunting for Alligators twice more.

Today, however, they were going to hunt Hogs, a decidedly dangerous venture, according to the other Pack members.

_"Watch the tusks,"_ Cortez ordered him as the bounced about in the back of the "hunting" van. _"They can tear, gouge, impale, rip, and do a countless amount of damage. You can die or be ruined for hunting for the rest of your life."_

_"We're trained to grab 'em by the ears an' pull'em to the ground," _Lady told him cheerfully, as she sat next to him, heavily pregnant. She wouldn't be hunting this time, not until her pups were old enough to be given away to other people, given to Sophie to be trained into Show Dogs, or trained to be hunters themselves. She'd stay in the van when the rest of the Pack was released.

_"If someone's got the ears, go after the back legs,"_ Frank grunted at Harry. _"That way, if it shake's the ear-holders down, it won't be able to run or charge as fast."_ Harry bobbed his head.

_"And follow Baron's lead on this one if we get separated,"_ Cortez ordered with a stern growl. _"He has the sharpest instinct's on this matter, besides Nemo and Lady with their tracking ability. And baron, don't be an ass or I'll put you in your place. __**Again**__. Got it?"_ The Husky sent a vicious glare over at the Catahoula Leopard, who had been looking smug but now hunched down with a meek nod at the Alpha. Harry nodded again as the van finally came to a stop, and the doors opened. As the Pack piled out, leaving Lady to sprawl and decide to doze, they were met by another hunting Pack, made up of three Foxhounds, a Pitbull, and a Great Dane who was the Alpha by his scent.

_"Cortez,"_ the large, fawn-coated Dane greeted solemnly.

_"Duke,"_ the Husky greeted back seriously, then tilted his head in Harry's direction. _"My new pack member, Bear. Bear, this is Duke. He and his Pack are Clyde Russel's hunting dogs. Clyde is a friendly rival of Jason's," _he explained as Harry trotted forward. He bobbed his head at the Dane, drooling happily.

_"'Lo there,"_ he greeted easily; the Dane sniffed at him obligingly, then snorted.

_"You hunt Hogs before, pup?" _he asked; Harry shook his head.

_"First time for everything,"_ he responded easily; Duke snorted, and then jerked his head towards his patiently waiting pack (well, the Foxhounds were being patient. The Pitbull and Baron seemed to be having a stand-off off to the side under the watchful eyes of Jason and one of the three men who had travelled with Duke's Pack.)

_"Max is the Foxhound in the red vest, Rosemary is the one in the yellow, and their son, Buddy, is the one in the blue. The Pit is Joey, and he's a bit of a prick when it comes to your packmate Baron, so just ignore him." _Harry nodded to the dogs.

_"Nice to meet you all!"_ He greeted easily. _"I'm Bear and this is my first hunting trip, good luck to you!"_ Jason snapped his fingers and called his name so, with one last nod, Harry trotted over to his owner's side.

"Clyde, meet Bear, my newest dog," Jason introduced him to the slightly-chubby white man, with his graying brown hair and stern brown eyes, cowboy hat on his head and rifle in his hands. The man looked Harry over, and Harry wagged his tail, grinning up at the man cheerfully.

"Think he'll be able to keep up?" Clyde challenged with a smirk, which Jason returned.

"Oh yeah, he'll keep up," he replied. Clyde chuckled before shrugging and calling his two men over.

"We'll see," he said, before the four men turned to view the map that was laying on the hood of Clyde's truck. "Right, so, we're allowed to hunt only in this stretch," he began pointing at the map. "There's a barbwire fence that splits this land from the next, and we're not to go past that, as the neighbor's haven't given us permission to hunt on their land."

"Report says there's a herd of a good twenty or thirty pigs here," one of the men said, leaning against the truck. "And that's not counting the piglets."

"We've got three days to weed out the herd," Jason said calmly. "Let's end today's hunt at ten tonight. Hunter with the most kills come the third day gets two hundred bucks and his car washed by the loser or on the loser's dime. Deal?" Clyde nodded in agreement.

"If one of the dogs gets injured, we call off the bet while the dogs owner gets their pup to the vet," Clyde added, and the two dog owners shook hands. "Ready?"

"Ready," Jason agreed; the two parted ways and led their Pack's in opposite directions. "Let's get to it, you guys," Jason announced, before cocking his rifle and climbing into his golf-cart. With a gesture, he sent the Pack running, and Harry made a point to stick close to Baron for once, mind slipping into the doggy-mindset as he ran.

The Hunt was on.

**A/N:** The Hunt will be continued next chapter, no worries!

Don't forget to Review!

_**TIMELINE**_

_(This will be left at the bottom of every chapter from now on)_

START OF FIC: Summer between fourth & fifth year (Late June/Early July, 1995)

HARRY/BEAR'S ADOPTION: Christmas during what would have been his Fifth Year (December 25, 1995)

FIRST HUNTING TRIP: Late January/Early February of what would have been his Fifth Year. (January/February, 1996)

HOG HUNTING: Spring of what would have been Fifth Year (May 1996)


	8. Chapter Seven: Hog Hunting PT 2

**A/N:** Here's the second part!

Okay, so, people keep asking me "When is Harry going to turn human?"

It will be a very, _very_ long time.

"Why?" you ask?

Because I said so!

No, but, seriously, Harry is going to be a dog for a while, because his magic and his doggy-half are working together to keep him that way. As he was under a lot of stress (being chased by his overly violent and fat cousin through a strange place and already injured will do that to a person, especially a teenager who had just seen a classmate of his die in front of him, was tortured and forced to duel the newly revived Dark Lord, AND had spent his entire summer waiting for said Dark Lord to strike, and being ignored by his best friends, so, yeah...), his magic, heightened by his emotions, was given the boost required to force the change and, as he wasn't prepared for the change and had never done it before, his animalistic instincts and "Doggy Mind" Were stronger, though Harry's own incredible will power kept it from taking over completely. As a result, though, his Magic has become internally focused, therefore "Passive" and his "Doggy Mind" now heavily influences his thoughts.

"But then, why doesn't he show up as an Animagus?" you ask?

Well, that would be because of his Passive Magic and Doggy Mind. Animagi always have a bit of their "Inner Animal" in their thoughts after and during a transformation, but their Magic is _outwardly_ focused, keeping their human body in it's animal shape, and continuously active in that way. This is why, in my belief, Animagi show up glowing when the revealing spell is cast. However, Harry's Magic is focused _internally_, on keeping him content in his form, protecting him from illness and disease and naturally occurring injuries that his form could gain, and protecting his Magical Core. This gives his "Doggy Mind" a bit of a boost, in the direction of being able to slip so easily into his instincts, which most humans will pull against. As a result, if the Revealing charm/spell was cast on him, he'd glow a little, as a result of what magic could be found in his body, but wouldn't show up as an Animagus. This also makes him _smell_ like just an ordinary dog with a magical _zing_ to him, okay?

Also, YES, his eyes are now fixed in human form, and brown.

Review with any other questions of yours!

**Chapter Seven**

Hog's don't smell like ham, or bacon, or anything like that. To Harry, they smelled like mud and heat and aggression and hunger, like something that would fight and eat and didn't care how filthy it got or who it hurt or anything like that, as long as it got what it wanted and its children weren't on something else's menu. There wasn't really a scent _trail_, but more like a _river_, the smell of their prey going strong and thick, burning and coating the back of his throat as he panted and ran after Baron, separated already from their other Packmates and rival Pack. Baron had streaked off early in the hunt, and Harry hadn't hesitated to follow, knowing Cortez would have ordered it of him anyways (Had already done so, in a way). In this case, however, he didn't mind, as he was built for swimming and carrying things out of the water, not tracking, and the Catahoula Leopard was a hunting dog born and bred.

The first Hog they run into is small, but a Sow, old enough to mate but not old enough to pack as big of a hit as fully grown Hogs could. Baron snarled and beat Harry to her, making her _scream_ in angry fear, as his dangerously sharp teeth latched onto her ear and started a demented tug-of-war with the Sow, until Harry joined them and unhesitatingly tackled her to her side, using his large weight and large paws to pin her securely, teeth digging into one of her back legs. Minutes later, one of Clyde's men road up, and ran over to them with the ties required, quickly taking advantage of Harry's position, to tie up the sows feet, putting a green tag in the center to mark the Hog as one of Jason's catches and hauling her to the cart to drive back to their "Base".

_"Ready to go?"_ Baron demanded impatiently; Harry, panting, bobbed his head and obediently bounded after the other dog as they once more took up the trail. The caught three more juvenile hogs, all of them Boars, before they met up with other dogs.

_"Catch anything worthwhile, pups?"_ Duke asked as Harry and Baron joined him at the large puddle for a drink, Buddy sprawled nearby resting.

_"Four small ones so far,"_ Harry informed him as Baron gulped water. _"One sow, three boars, and we'll be off for more soon." _Duke gave them a congratulatory nod and, after Harry had gulped down some water, bid them good hunting as they were once more off racing. They hadn't gone far when the scream of what sounded like a large, _angry_ hog echoed nearby, followed with the clear, pained yelp of a dog, and a man shouting indistinctly. Harry picked up his pace immediately, running just a little behind Baron as they made a beeline for the noises, bursting out of the trees and onto the scene of a large, furious boar attempting to gore the Pitbull Joey, while the youngest of Clyde's men was climbing jerkily out of his over-tipped golf cart, cursing the air blue as he desperately struggled. Without a word between them, Harry and Baron attacked the boar, all three-hundred pounds of it. Baron grabbed an ear, wrenching it to the other side of the Hog's head and making it squeal in angry pain as it's head was forced off and away from Joey, who was bleeding in multiple places but well enough to scramble to his feet and grab the pig's other ear. Harry, though, went for the boar's flank, slamming into it until the Hog stumbled and fell, and then going for the throat, getting a kick to the chest but uncaring as his vest took the brunt of the hit. Soon, blood and flesh filled his mouth, the screams of the pig and growls of his companions filling his ears, and he tore chunk after chunk out of the boar's throat, until it finally lay still, twitching weakly in it's death throes.

_"You alright?"_ Baron asked him; he bobbed his head and looked to Joey, who was wheezing as he sprawled down, tongue lolling tiredly as he lay there. From what Harry could tell, he didn't have any _deadly_ wounds, but he would definitely be on his way to the veterinary hospital after this.

"Joey!" The young human had finally gotten himself out of the rolled 'cart, and staggered over to the dog and began to frantically check him over, even as the rest of the golf carts appeared over a nearby hill, with the rest of both Packs running alongside.

"Louis!" Clyde called, leaping from his cart and running towards them with a frantic expression.

"I'm fine, Dad," the young man reassured quickly. "Nothing worse than a few scrapes and bruises, damn hog startled me and I hit the gas instead of the break, and went over in that ditch there," Louis explained angrily, flapping a hand at the overturned cart. "It got to Joey, the boar did, and had him pinned and was tearing into him. Then these two came outta nowhere, thank God, and the three of them killed the damn thing," he pointed at Harry and Baron, who were being sniffed and checked over by their Packmates and Jason.

"Thank God," Clyde muttered, hugging his son, before they quickly got Joey wrapped up a bit and in the back of another cart, Clyde and Louis driving off in that one, while Jason and the other son (apparently), Roger, tipped Louis's cart right-side-up.

"I think Dad wouldn't mind if that boar goes to your dogs," Roger told Jason as they heaved the heavy creature into the back of Roger's cart. Jason nodded and climbed into his own cart, giving a whistle for the Pack.

"We're calling it a night, boys!" He announced, and led the way back to the "base". There were eight hogs beside their van now, counting the three-hundred-pound boar, and six next to Clyde's truck. That was fifteen pigs all together, though only three were sows, which were the main prize beside large hogs, of which there was the one Harry and Baron had helped get, and one that Duke and Buddy had gotten that was bigger by at least a hundred pounds, to Baron's chagrin.

"Good work tonight, all of you," Jason told them firmly as they loaded all of the hogs onto the trailer hooked behind Clyde's truck. "We'll see you tomorrow, Roger." The two shook hands. "Hope you dog's alright," Jason offered; Roger shrugged.

"It just means Louis will be depressed that Joey won't be hunting again for a while," Roger told him. "Which means we'll be bringing in my Labrador, Pepper. She's green, but," he shrugged. "More dogs the better." Jason nodded, bid him goodnight, and corralled the Pack into the back of the hunting van. Harry, panting happily, sprawled next to Lady and began to doze, pleased with his first night of Hog hunting, if exhausted from how much Baron had pushed his ability to run distances, and at high speeds, too!

Settling in to sleep until they got home, Harry wondered if the next night would be nearly as dramatic.

**~(Line Break)~**

"_Watch your left flank!"_ Nemo barked as he and Harry were corralling a group of three piglets and their mother up against a thorny, tightly-meshed fence. Harry heeded his friend's warning, and used one of his large paws to sharply smack one of the piglets back towards its mother, squealing. The growl of a golf cart announced the arrival of one of the humans, and the packmates were suddenly joined by the newest hunting dog, Pepper, her chocolate-colored form lunging forward to eagerly snap at a piglet, making it scream in fear as it tumbled away, towards its angry, frightened mother, who lunged forward, but was forced back by a snarling snap of Nemo's fangs.

The sharp _pop-pop-pop_ of the newly implemented dart gun broke the air, making several of the piglets and the Sow squeal as they were hit with tranquilizers, though Harry had the move fast and snatch the smallest piglet up as it tried one last escape attempt. He sat holding the small form firmly in his mouth as it struggled, it's mother and siblings being neatly loaded into the back of the cart after the tranquilizer had kicked in.

"Good job, guys," Roger announced, taking the piglet from Harry and securing it swiftly, before it joined its mother and siblings.

"_Roger, we're calling it a night,"_ Clyde's voice announced over the walkie-talkie sitting on the young man's waist. He plucked it off and replied with an affirmative, before whistling at the dogs and climbing back into his cart. As they headed back towards base, Harry happily nudged Pepper, making her bark and chase him, Nemo soon joining in on the playful game of tag, until the finally reached Base, where the others were just pulling up as well.

"Good hunting," Clyde announced as he smacked his sons on the shoulder and nodded at Jason, who scratched Duke behind the ear absently. "Your new pup kept up well." Jason smiled and nodded as Harry padded over to the sleepy form of Lady, nudging her and licking her face cheerfully as he listened in.

"He's a smart one," Jason replied, before he loaded all the dogs into his van. The hogs were placed in another van, to be taken to various places to be butchered, their meat sold, and all of Jason's profits would be waiting for pick-up the following Saturday. There would also be a few bags of hog-jerky for the dogs treats thanks to all the extra piglets they'd managed to grab up, but Harry was just happy to get a few days of rest.

"Let's get home, guys," Jason announced as he closed the van's doors, and climbed in the front, where Baron was happily sitting.

"_Hog Hunting is fun,"_ Harry told Lady and Nemo as they curled against each other, getting happy tail-wags and panting-grins from the two. _"But I'll be happy to just rest for a while,"_ he admitted. _"I'm made for swimming, not running."_ Nemo bobbed his head in sympathy, and Lady yawned, settling her head along his back. Deciding that she had the best idea, Harry and Nemo soon followed her example, and fell asleep to the rumbling and occasional jostling of the van.

All in all, it was a successful hunt, and they deserved their rest.

**A/N:** Ta-Da! End of Part Two! Enjoy!

R&R!

_**TIMELINE!**_

(This will be left at the bottom of every chapter from now on)

**START OF FIC:**

Summer between fourth & fifth year

(Late June/Early July, 1995)

**HARRY/BEAR'S ADOPTION:**

Christmas during what would have been his Fifth Year

(December 25, 1995)

**FIRST HUNTING TRIP:**

Late January/Early February of what would have been his Fifth Year.

(January/February, 1996)

**HOG HUNTING:**

Spring of what would have been Fifth Year

(May 1996)


	9. Chapter Eight: Puppy Problems

**A/N:** Don't mind me, randomly working on random things while on my Winter Break from getting my Certified Nursing Assistant (CAN) Training.

(Whistles innocently)

…

Yeah…..

ENJOY!

**Chapter Eight**

Harry dozed in the heat of the midday, summer sun, panting lightly and twitching his head every once in awhile to chase off an annoying fly before it could bite him. He'd have been fully asleep right now, except for the fact that Lady's twelve puppies were _loud_ and loved to climb on him, which was exactly what her youngest pup, a male named Asher, was doing at that very moment, his tiny silver body happily wriggling through Harry's thick black fur as he yipped and play-growled at the Newfoundland.

"_Play with me, Uncle Bear!"_ The puppy demanded, pouncing on the male's head, and yelping as he slipped and promptly tumbled to the ground, staggering as Harry snorted and nudged him a bit.

"_It's too hot for me to play, Asher,"_ Harry informed the puppy tiredly, yawning.

"_Come oooon~!"_ Asher whined, only to yelp as his eldest sister, Rosie, tackled him.

"_Stop messin' with Uncle Bear, Asher!"_ The puppy scolded as she rolled with her brother, the both of them yipping and growling and whining at one another as they tussled. _"You know the heat makes'm sick! I'll tell Mama if you do it again!"_

"_Okay! Ow! Stop it!" _Asher yelped, struggling as Rosie bit one of his large, floppy ears. _"Mama! Rosie's got my ear!" _

"_Rosie, let go of your brother's ear," _Lady called distractedly as she broke up a fight between her two oldest boys, Rosco and Jackson, who were easily the worst behaved of the litter. Baron had taken to sleeping on the boat dock to avoid the twelve terrors and, while Harry adored the little bundles of energy, he was seriously considering joining the Catahoula Hound just to get some peace.

"_Marcy! Get away from the waters-edge,"_ Lady barked out sharply, alarmed, and Harry quickly stood and caught sight of the puppy as she uncaringly scrambled into the tall-grasses. With a curse, Harry trotted quickly after her, lunging into the grasses as a startled yelp and splash was heard, before the puppy began to frantically thrash and cry. The Newfoundland quickly found her, and scooped her up neatly, carrying her to her frightened siblings and worried mother where they sat just in front of the porch steps. Harry plopped the soaked puppy down, and watched as she was immediately swarmed by her concerned family, before he turned and went back to his napping place, sighing.

It was going to be a _long_ month before the puppies would be old enough to get adopted out, and even then, at least two would be staying for a year, to be trained as hunting dogs before they would find their own homes.

Flopping down on the ground, Harry firmly put that out of his mind, and once more attempted to nap in the horrible, heavy heat.

**~(Line Break)~**

Adoption Day arrived, and Harry found himself sitting next to the sad form of Lady as he watched puppies being picked up and taken to their new homes.

Aggressive Rosco and curious Marcy were taken together to a large home with three athletic teens and a five-year-old to deal with them. A young couple with a large yard and eager hearts picked up lazy Murphy. Rosie and Carly were both deemed excellent by Sofie, and taken to begin their training as Show Dogs. The breeder who owned the puppy's father had come and picked up quiet Solomon and excitable Phoebe. Always-hungry Oscar had gone home with an older couple who'd recently lost their Weimaraner. A family of seven had scooped up little Asher, and shy Libby had gone with a man to live on his ranch. Finally, only antagonistic Jackson and solemn Elvis remained, and Jason had his two new hunting dogs, for the next year, at least.

"It'll be alright, Lady," the Werewolf soothed the depressed dog, petting her head gently, before he left for his date with Sofie in town, leaving the seven dogs behind. Harry sighed and wistfully looked after the familiar Jeep.

"_It's going to be so quiet without all those little brats running around,"_ he murmured; Nemo bobbed his head in agreement, before turning towards the two new, semi-permanent Pack members. Elvis was sitting quietly next to his mother, eerie blue eyes peering around at them all in slight confusion. Jackson, meanwhile, was growling and trying to snap at Frank, who was eying him with minor irritation, the Rottweiler's patience thin enough already.

"_Jackson, leave Frank alone,"_ Cortez ordered sharply, his mix-matched eyes stern; the puppy hunched a bit, and glowered moodily, before skulking off to see if her could find a frog or something to chase. Harry sighed and shook his head in exasperation.

_It's going to be a long year_, he thought resignedly, turning and following the puppy to keep him out of trouble.

**~(Line Break)~**

"_No!"_ Cortez barked sharply, swatting Jackson lightly as the lean pup once again tried to move before he was told. Jason frowned down at the puppy, arms crossed from his place ten feet away. Elvis was already next to the Werewolf, having completed the relatively simple "Sit-Down-Stay-Come" training combination they were working on, to Jackson's chagrin.

"_When Jason say's to Stay, you stay, puppy!"_ The Alpha snapped, irritated. _"When he say's to Come, then, and only then, do you move towards him! This is a simple task, puppy!"_

"_I get it!"_ Jackson snapped, irritated. _"Stop treating me like an idiot!"_

"_Watch your tone, brat!"_ Frank barked sharply, glaring at the puppy from nearby. Lady sighed and covered her face with her paws, and Nemo shook his head. Harry sighed and trotted over to Elvis, gently nudging the puppy away from the rising tension of the training session.

"_Come on, pup,"_ he muttered, leading the well-behaved pup towards the tall-grass and waters edge. _"Let's go water-hunting while your brother makes a fool of himself."_

"_Again,"_ Elvis added with a dry tone; Harry bobbed his head, before jumping neatly into the shallow water. Nemo joined them minutes later, and the two older dogs spent the next hour helping Elvis learn to hunt frogs. Then they went to the porch when Jason called, and happily ate their food.

And then the training started again.

**~(Line Break)~**

"_Uncle Bear?"_ Elvis asked one rainy day two months later as the seven dogs lounged on the porch, watching the storm.

"_Yes, Elvis?"_ Harry replied, face lifted as he enjoyed the cool, wet breeze that was blowing through his fur, bringing the heavy smell of rain, wet earth, and growing things to his nose.

"_What was it like, for you, before Jason brought you here?"_ The well-behaved young dog asked curiously; Jackson, who had mellowed in the last few weeks, lifted his head from where he lay next to his mother, pale blue eyes curious and floppy ears perked. Harry hesitated, before sighing.

"_It was… Scary,"_ he finally started, voice quiet. _"My human family didn't like me. They hurt me and starved me and locked me up in a too-small cage. When my mother died… They got me, and they didn't want me, but for some reason, they never gave me away. They just kept hurting me and trying to train me for something. I don't know what," _he said, honestly, before shrugging and shaking his head. _"One day, they hurt me, and I woke up in an alley. A couple of human girls helped me, and called the Animal Control people, and they took me to the Animal Hospital, where Mary works. And a few months later, Jason picked me up._" Here, Harry smiled. His life had been so much better since that day, and, every day that passed, the worries and fears of Human Harry dwindled and diminished, replaced by the peace and happiness of Dog Harry's new life. Now, he didn't know if he'd ever go back, if given the choice.

There was silence for several minutes, as thunder rumbled and lightning flashed high above them, before Elvis snuggled down against Harry's large side, the steadily growing Weimaraner slowly catching up to his mother and older brother in height.

"_I'm glad that Jason brought you to the Pack, Uncle Bear,"_ the young dog murmured; Harry chuckled, tail flapping softly, and once more lifted his face into the wind.

"_Me too, Elvis," _he replied softly, mouth opening into a small doggy-grin, brown eyes on the stormy sky. _"Me too."_

**~(Line Break)~**

The day Jackson and Elvis finished their Hunting Dog Training was a sad one. Harry watched mournfully as the two pups he'd helped watch over, train, and protect were loaded into the back of their new owners vans, to be taken to the mans ranch and help him hunt hogs and deer a state away. Elvis had grown into a strong, well-mannered Alpha, with Jackson willingly choosing to be his Second. Jackson, while still much more aggressive than his younger brother, was much better behaved than he'd been as a pup, and was a fine example of his breed.

As the van disappeared down the road, leaving a dust-cloud behind to slowly dissipate, Harry sighed and let Lady lean sadly against his side.

"_I'm going to miss those two,"_ he murmured; she whined in agreement, and the two settled down right there in the grass, joined by Nemo, to mourn the now-empty spaces in their Pack.

The day was quiet, and all that was missing was a storm, to fit the Pack's mood properly.

**A/N:** Short but sweet. Timeskips! Whoot!

R&R!

**_TIMELINE!_**

(This will be left at the bottom of every chapter from now on)

**START OF FIC:**

Summer between fourth & fifth year

(Late June/Early July, 1995)

**HARRY/BEAR'S ADOPTION:**

Christmas during what would have been his Fifth Year

(December 25, 1995)

**FIRST HUNTING TRIP:**

Late January/Early February of what would have been his Fifth Year.

(January/February, 1996)

**HOG HUNTING:**

Spring of what would have been Fifth Year

(May 1996)

**PUPPIES (BEFORE ADOPTION):**

Early Summer of what would have been between Fifth and Sixth Year

(Early June 1996)

**PUPPIES (ADOPTION DAY):**

Late Summer of what would have been between Fifth and Sixth Year

(Early August 1996)

**ELVIS & JACKSON'S GOODBYE:**

Late Spring of what would have been Sixth Year

(March 1997)


	10. Chapter Nine: Show Tunes

**A/N:** Yay, another chapter for you! ^-^

Everyone missed the puppies, awwww!

_**Chapter Nine**_

"Bear," Jason called; Harry didn't hesitate to heave himself to his feet and trot over to the Werewolf, who was standing next to Sophie. "Sit." Harry obeyed without a second thought, cocking his head curiously. "Up." He stood. "Stand pretty." Harry, remembering this particular command from his time at the vet's, obeyed. He straightened, lifted his head, closed his moth, eyes forward and legs straight, his back legs a bit farther apart than he'd normally stand. He stilled, and didn't so much as twitch as Sophie began a thorough, hands-on examination. She moved his ears, tail, lips, poked his teeth, opened his mouth and prodded his tongue, and even checked him between his legs. By now, though, Harry was used to her randomly doing these things, and bore it easily.

"Perfect," she declared, and gave him a treat. "I'll be happy to take him for a week." Harry perked his ears up, and sat down. "I've never taken such a large dog to the Show before, but, with his training and temperament, it'll be a cinch!" Harry wagged his tail and opened his mouth in a doggy-grin, and Jason ruffled his ears affectionately.

"You're the expert," the Werewolf said easily, shrugging.

That's how Harry found himself in a crate on a plane to Sacramento, California, registered under the name _Paws 'N Claws Big Boy Bear_, because, apparently, "Bear" was too plebian or something, and so he needed a "Proper" name. Paws & Claws was, apparently, the name of the Adoption Agency that worked out of the Animal Hospital, and since he'd been Big Boy and then Bear, Sophie deemed it a good name for him.

_Whatever_.

Harry just ignored it all, and slept almost the entire trip, waking up whenever the cute stewardess snuck in to feed him some treats and coo at him through the kennel door.

**~(Line Break)~**

The week passed quickly enough, with many trips to various groomer's, a physical by a Show Approved Vet, and training carefully. Finally, though, it was time for the Show.

The Show Building was large and crowded, despite the fact that the actual Show wouldn't start for another two hours. Harry had been groomed (again), walked around, and introduced to other dogs and their owners. He met a three-time Best of Breed winner, a Springer Spaniel named _Larsen's Littlest Lady Bird_.

"_Just call me Mimi,"_ she'd told him with a wry grin.

"_Only if you call me Bear,"_ Harry had agreed cheerfully; Mimi had given him the rundown on what he should expect, and also a few tips.

"_Don't lick the judges hands when they mess with your mouth,"_ She told him, tail wagging as Sophie spoke with the older man that was Mimi's owner. _"They think it's cute and everything, but you'll lose points."_ Harry bobbed his head in agreement, and then bid the Spaniel goodbye as Sophie decided to take him on a tour of the various competition sites, and watch as some of the dogs did practice runs.

"_Well, well, well, look at this fat-ass,"_ a male voice mocked; Harry turned his head and found himself giving a bemused look to the sneering form of a black-and-white Border collie.

"_Well, well, well, look at the sheep-biter," _Harry replied, more amused than anything; the Border Collie narrowed his eyes, but, before he could say anything else, his owner was leading him to the start of the course.

"Leroy, go!" his owner ordered; Harry watched the rude dog run the course and was impressed, admiring the dog's superb speed. When the dog was done and brought back to the side, Harry moved to compliment him, but the dog spoke before he could.

"A fat-ass like you is better off sticking to the sit-and-smile Shows," the Collie sneered; Harry's eyes narrowed, and he turned his head towards the course, eying it critically, before he gave a decisive nod and turned towards Sophie, nudging her hand and getting her attention. He turned his face to the course and back, course and back, three or four times before Sophie laughed.

"You want to try the coarse, Bear?" He rose to his paws and wriggled a bit before sitting down and grinning. If she didn't want him to run the coarse, he wouldn't, but he knew she'd probably let him just to see how he did. "Alright then, let's go." She led him to the start of the coarse, and unhooked the leash with the order to stay. Harry ignored the crowd that was gathering and chuckling at him, and Sophie, and focused solely on the coarse.

Sophie didn't call like the Collie's owner had. Instead, she whistled sharply and clapped twice; Harry didn't need to be told twice, and he launched immediately into action. He leaped easily over the first two fence-jumps, ran up the see-sea and gracefully ran down it again. He dove through the corner tunnel, leaped over the next fence jump, and ran up the steep triangle/wall thing. He slipped through the shot, jumped over another two fences, dove through a hoop, and then hit the zigzag poles, which he pushed himself through as fast as he could, ignoring the dizzy feeling, before he found himself leaping over one last fence and finishing the coarse to enthusiastic and impressed clapping, panting happily as Sophie ruffled his scruff and gave him a treat, leading him back to the sidelines where someone provided him with a bowl of water, which he drank from happily.

"That was very impressive, Miss," someone told Sophie, to the general agreement of listeners nearby.

"I've never seen such a large breed do the Agility Coarse so gracefully or quickly!" a woman declared, to more agreement; Harry happily endured petting and compliments, before the announcer was calling for everyone to go to their stations, and he soon found himself getting a last-minute grooming before a thin collar was attached to his collar, and, before he knew it, he was being led out onto the floor.

Keeping in mind the expectations Sophie had for him, and Mimi's tips, Harry kept his head high, his prance graceful, and his head up, face forward. He didn't look at the flashing lights of camera flashes, the announcers loud voice didn't 'spook' him, and he didn't pull too far away from Sophie or make her run quickly. As a result, when he reached the judges, he'd already shown himself to be well-trained. He 'stood pretty' while they checked him over and, when that was done, once more took the prance around the ring. Finally, they came to a rest in the line of dogs that had already been shown, and Harry sat, and then laid down primly. He didn't slouch, didn't droll excessively, and held the "Sphinx Position" firmly.

He was surprised to find that he wasn't the only Newfoundland on the strip. There were two others, a female and a male. The female was all brown, with a little white flare on her chest, and was named _Ruthford's Riptide Russel_, and she smelled like lavender shampoo, vanilla, and the barest hint of her heat, which probably wouldn't hit for another week.

The male was white-and-black, and a bit larger than Harry. His name was _Checker Board Carrington Booth_, and this was, apparently, his seventh competition. He smelled like spring, rain, nutmeg, and children.

Time passed and Harry struggled to remain still. The female Rottweiler on his left (whose name he hadn't caught, and who smelled like linen, basil, and sugar) yawned. The male Boxer on his right (named _Tim's Rescue Tapioca Destroyer_, and who smelled like, well, tapioca pudding… And lint…) licked his nose.

Suddenly, though, they were announcing winners, and Harry found his name called. Second Place in Best of Breed. He got a yellow ribbon and Sophie got a small trophy, but he couldn't help but be happy. Sure, it wasn't first, but a win is still a win, right?

"Good boy, Bear," Sophie cooed, and gave him a treat, and, to Harry, that was even better.

**~(Line Break)~**

_"Have fun?"_ Nemo asked Harry after he had joyfully reunited with the Pack.

_"It could have been worse,"_ Harry replied simply, and, grinning, they two of them cajoled Lady into swimming with them, and spent and hour chasing fish, frogs, and whatever else caught their eye.

It was a good day.

**A/N:** Yes, it's short, I know, I apologize, but meh (shrugs) I wanted to throw in a Dog Show tidbit. ^-^

Also, vague irritation towards an anonymous Reviewer, who said that I was ruining Harry… Oh, wait, no, they said:

"First I don't mind stories where characters are somewhat OC but this isn't staying near main character at all. He has none of his personality at all. Your just using his name and half ass background"

They said more, but, honestly, since most of it was complaining about how I was ruining Harry and basically making him my own character, and how that was horrible because they LIKED Harry, well, yeah.

I admit I made Harry pretty OOC, but, dude, first of all, MY FIC, don't like, don't read, because I don't write for the sake of reviews.

And you said: "if you don't like Harry, why don't you just write your own character into the world"

Because then it wouldn't be Fanfiction, really, but closer to just writing your own story and using others ideas to make a world happen. I write Original Stories for that, thank you. And I like ASPECTS of Harry. I also found him a horribly naïve, gullible jock with anger-management issues, and thought he would have turned out worse in a more realistic situation just due to the Dursley's treatment, and then the treatment of the Wizarding World towards him.

But, then again, I loathe Ginny because she's a Gold Digging Glory Hound and so is Ron, but, hey, you know, that's why I don't really use either of them in my fics.

I use Harry because his personality is MALLEABLE, his life is MALLEABLE and I enjoy writing about him.

If you want more of the "Old Harry", just go read his books.

Fanfiction is where the aspects of writing, and rewriting characters and their lives, are explored and practiced.

If you don't like it, don't read it.

I apologize for the short chapter, long rant, but, yeah (Shrugs)


	11. Chapter Ten: Hero Complex

**A/N:** Thank you guys for all of the support! ^-^

I really do appreciate it.

ALSO!

Apologies for not updating the Timeline at the bottom of last chapter! It's fixed on this one, though, but anyways, enjoy!

_**Chapter Ten**_

Harry had forgotten what it was like, to play the part of a hero. His Magic and Doggy-Mind, which was really just Bear's personality, had lulled him into a haze of contentment. It was peaceful, and rejuvenating, like a long, deep sleep after never-ending nightmares…

It was a scream that woke him from that dream.

Jason had been taking them 'Gator Hunting, and they were gliding down one of the wider canals. When the scream rent the air, Harry's head shot up and snapped towards it, body tensing. A small boat was trying to wrench itself around from where it had gotten caught in the waterweeds. A woman on the boat was flailing at something in the water, crying and deathly pale. Following her line of sight, Harry found his eyes latching onto the form of a small girl thrashing in the water, and his ears perked, catching the sound of sputtering and choked-off cries as she struggled. Even as he launched himself into the air towards her, his eyes caught the form of the alligator slowly winding its way towards the girl. It was a small one, but still more than enough to kill the child.

As he hit the water, it was like breathing in a fresh breath of air, his mind clearing, and, suddenly, his mind was his own, fortified by Bear's instinct's to help the child, and his Magic's reassurance is he swam through the water, his natural, Newfoundland breast-stoke eating through the distance with grace and ease. Soon, he was at the child, and he found himself having to dive down, ignoring the water in his nose, as he grabbed onto the barely-conscious girls upper arm.

She couldn't be more than six.

He lunged upwards, managing to twist his body so that the child was mostly long his back, sliding his grip down to her lower arm and holding gently but relentless. Their heads broke the surface, and he swam purposefully towards the girls mother, who was sobbing as the man at the boat wheel had finally given up on freeing the boat and was scrambling onto the tiny ledge on the back of the boat, whistling and calling "good dog, c'mere boy! Bring her here!" and trying not to panic as the alligator sped up a little bit, obviously contemplating taking on the larger form of Harry.

When Harry reached the boat, and the man had pulled the girl up into the boat, where the woman began to desperately perform CPR, Harry felt something clamp onto his back leg and pull. Yelping as he was almost pulled under, Harry dug his claws into the ledge of the boat, and then grunted as the man from before seized him by the scruff and the back of his vest, and heaved.

He was pulled up, and the 'Gator followed, beginning to trash and ripping Harry's leg open, making the Newfoundland animagus yelp again and struggle harder.

And explosion of noise and the alligator's hold abruptly loosened, and Harry was heaved onto the boat, blood spattering the flooring as the man swiftly pulled him onto it. Jason and his boat pulled up, rifle in hand and dark eyes hard on the dead form of the 'Gator.

"Everyone alright?" He demanded, as Nemo leaped into the water and retrieved the small 'Gator. As if to answer, the little girl coughed up water, and the woman sobbed with relief.

"Now we are," the man answered, and shuddered with relief, before his eyes widened and he turned to Harry, who whined as he licked tenderly at his ravaged leg. "The damn thing grabbed your dog though, and it looks nasty…" Jason nodded, and pulled the dead 'Gator onto his boat before grabbing the boat's walkie and calling for medical assistance for their child.

"Let's get you to shore," he said, and threw a rope over to tie to their boat. "Bear's going to have to stay with you for a bit. Just wrap his leg, and, once we get you to shore so your girl can get checked, I'll take him to the Animal Hospital. Try to wrap it in something it you can!" The man nodded, and Harry whined softly as he wrapped an extra towel around the injured limb, and tied it with some nylon rope, being shushed and pet with trembling hands as Jason towed their boat towards more populated areas.

"You're such a good boy, Bear," he said, and hugged the dog tightly, burying his face in the wet scruff of Harry's neck as the boy-turned-dog uncertainly licked the man. "Good boy, good boy, God…" He sobbed, before he broke away. "I swear to God, if that man doesn't, then I'm going to buy you all the steak you could ever want." He gave a weak, watery chuckle, before he moved over to the woman who was clutching and rocking the exhaustedly crying little girl, and wrapped them both up in a tight hug, kissing them and rocking with them desperately.

Land came into view with the flashing lights of Ambulances and Police cars, and an Emergency Animal Control vehicle. As Jason pulled his boat up and the rest of the Pack sat on shore, he pulled in the boat Harry was on. The man and woman rushed their daughter towards the EMT's, and Jason leaped onto their boat.

"Easy, boy," he murmured soothingly, and Harry, as reluctant as he was to once more be sucked into complacency by his magic and Bear, allowed the Werewolf's Alpha-Energy to sooth him as the man carefully lifted him and began to carry him towards the Animal Control van.

"There's the hero," the woman manning the van declared as Jason carefully sat Harry in one of the large kennels. Swiftly, the woman had an IV set up, and a cone around Harry's head, which made him sneeze, grudgingly annoyed that he'd have to have the cone on. "We're going to take good care of him," she assured Jason even as she closed the van doors. Harry heard the muffled conversation of the woman telling Jason where they were taking him, and relaxed when he recognized his familiar Hospital. Mary was going to be as exasperated as Madame Pomfrey with him soon, he knew, and settled in to rest.

**~(Line Break)~**

"Samantha, you have a visitor!" Nurse Jasmine called into the hospital room of the little girl, her mother and father looking up, confused. There faces lit up, however, when Harry limped heavily in, his back left leg in a thick, purple cast, which had been signed already by various people, and his work harness in place, grinning happily as the tired-looking little girl's face lit up.

"Puppy!" She gasped, sitting up and beaming, her blue eyes glowing with joy as he ash-blond hair, sleep-ruffled and soft, fluffed up around her comically.

"Not just any puppy, sweetheart," her father informed her as the mother wiped tears from her face. Harry limped over to them, tail wagging as he flopped his head onto the girl's relatively short bed and making her giggle. "This is Bear, the dog that saved you." The girl's eyes widened and her mouth formed a tiny 'o' of surprise. Her hands shook slightly as she set her hands on Harry's head, and Harry shuffled closer, even pushing up onto his good back-leg so he could settle his massive head on her chest lightly. Immediately, she wrapped her arms around his head and buried her face in his forehead. Seconds passed, and he didn't try to move, offering comfort to the child as she started to cry, whispering 'thank you, puppy' softly every once and awhile.

From the corner of his eye, he watched the woman, Samantha's mother, bury her face in her hands, shuddering as she, too, cried, and the father rose and left the room, most likely seeing Jason as the Werewolf leaned against the door-frame. Harry ignored them all, though. Them, the smiling nurses and doctors who peeked in, he ignored them all, because all that mattered was this sweet little girl who was clutching onto his fur like he was, once more, the only thing keeping her from drowning. Pulling away a bit, he gave a huge heave, and his magic flared slightly, and he was on the bed, where he flopped carefully down and curled on his uninjured side, head still clutched in the girls arms as she, too, curled on her side against him.

Samantha cried herself to sleep, and Harry turned carefully so he could tug her blanket over her, but made no move to leave the bed. A gentle hand touched his head, and he looked up to find the girl's mother smiling at him, face splotchy from crying, but eyes so unbelievably grateful that it made the boy-now-dog-Savior uncomfortable.

"I think God sent an angel to us, that day you saved my baby," she whispered, and pressed a kiss to his head, fresh tears dripping onto his fur as her hand on his neck trembled. "Thank you," she whispered fiercely, before he leaned over him and kissed Samantha's forehead, before quickly standing and wiping her face, and leaving to join her husband to talk to Jason in the hallway.

In the silence of the room, with the beeping and whirling of machines accompanying the soft, faintly-wheezing breaths of the little girl he'd Saved, Harry settled in and wondered, for the first time in years (and, Merlin, it had been years…) what was happening back in England without him…

And whether he was willing to leave his new-found happiness behind for it.

**~(Line Break)~**

"For displaying immense bravery in the face of immediate danger," the uniformed man announced to the quiet crowd from the podium, "to both himself and an innocent civilian child's, and sustaining serious injury while protecting said child, we, the PDSA Council, hereby present Bear the Newfoundland, with the Gold Medal, the highest honor any animal can get," he announced; Harry limped heavily onto the stage, dressed in his work harness, leash held by tiny Samantha as Jason and her parents clapped from the front row. Smiling sweetly, the little girl, in her orange-and-white flowered dress, took the medal from the councilman, and turned to Harry. He silently ducked down so she could push it over his head, the gold medal, with its laurel wreath symbol and the words _For Gallantry Or Devotion To Duty_, gleamed against his orange vest, and Samantha beamed, kissing his cheek and making the crowd chuckle and 'aw'. Turning to face the crowd, Harry stood, looking out at them all as Samantha waved at the smiling, clapping crowd.

And Harry wondered at the fact that this was felt so much different than the Wizarding World. There, _everyone_ made some sort of huge deal about him being the Boy-Who-Lived, about him being their _Savior_, but it was almost _worship_, and at any hint hat he wasn't completely good and wonderful and Light, they hissed and spurned him and muttered about what a '_shame_' it was, that he'd started going Dark…

This, though…

_This_ was nothing like that. This was an _acknowledgement_, and a _thank you_, but nothing more than that. No one _expected_ him to do it again, or to just suddenly show up and save _them_ when _they_ were in trouble. No one expected him to be anything but what he was and…

And it was like a weight lifted from his shoulders, and Harry stood proud and wagged his tail, grinning out at the crowd as camera's flashed and Samantha continued to grin and giggle and wave.

_This_ was something he could live with, years from now, when he looked back on his happier memories.

This was something he could be proud of.

**A/N:** Ta-Da! ^-^ I decided to bring back some of Harry's Hero-Complex (hence the chapter title, lolz)

Special thanks to Reviewer _**YM CPL Ironhide**_ for their enthusiasm about Newfoundland's (because those dogs are the shit and no one can tell me otherwise), their fun fact about Newfies doing the Breast-Stroke instead of the Doggy Paddle, and their minor correction on the fact that the white-and-black Newfies (called landseer) aren't American Kennel Club accepted as part of the Newfoundland Standard Colors!

Just FYI, my lovely Reviewer, I didn't know that bit, but I think I was looking at UK Kennel Club's breed specifications, so that's probably why I got that mixed-up. Thanks for telling me, though!

Review!

_**TIMELINE!**_

_(This will be left at the bottom of every chapter from now on)_

**START OF FIC:**

Summer between fourth & fifth year

(Late June/Early July, 1995)

**HARRY/BEAR'S ADOPTION:**

Christmas during what would have been his Fifth Year

(December 25, 1995)

**FIRST HUNTING TRIP:**

Late January/Early February of what would have been his Fifth Year.

(January/February, 1996)

**HOG HUNTING:**

Spring of what would have been Fifth Year

(May 1996)

**PUPPIES (BEFORE ADOPTION):**

Early Summer of what would have been between Fifth and Sixth Year

(Early June 1996)

**PUPPIES (ADOPTION DAY):**

Late Summer of what would have been between Fifth and Sixth Year

(Early August 1996)

**ELVIS & JACKSON'S GOODBYE:**

Late Spring of what would have been Sixth Year

(March 1997)

**DOG SHOW**

Mid-Summer of what would have been between Sixth and Seventh Year

(Early July, 1997)

**RESCUES SAMANTHA**

Late Summer of what would have been between Sixth and Seventh Year

(Late July/Early August, 1997)

**AWARD CEREMONY**

Mid-September of what would have been Seventh Year

(Mid-September, 1997)


End file.
